


Heart As Blue as Her Vault Suit

by delfiend



Series: Delfiend's Fallout 4 Stories [1]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, Fallout, Fallout 4 - Freeform, Fallout 4 Spoilers, Gen, Multi, The Institute - Freeform, fallout 4 main questline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-06 01:01:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 20
Words: 58,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5396960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delfiend/pseuds/delfiend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PLEASE NOTE: This story contains major spoilers for a lot of plot-lines in Fallout 4, mostly the main quest line, but also some major spoilers from most companion quests. Don't read if you don't want to spoil it for yourself, but feel free to come back when you're ready! :)</p><p>Madison has made some terrible mistakes. She doesn't thinks he can live with herself anymore, but with the support of her friends and the people who love her, she finds a way to take her darkest hour and make some light of it. Now Director of The Institute, she has the opportunity to reformed the "boogeyman" of the Commonwealth to be its new savior. But the road to reform is a hard one, and many enemies wait in the shadows to see her fail. Madison is doing all she can, but with the Institute outraged with her leadership and the Commonwealth wanting her head, the already arduous task of fixing the Commonwealth seems all but impossible.</p><p>And in the middle of it all, Nick Valentine stands by his friends side, too afraid to admit to her or himself just how much he cares for her. Perhaps even more than just a friend. But the synth knows he has to confess his feelings for her. It's just a matter of finding the right time...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Heartbreak with a Little Disappointment on Top

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madison, the Sole Survivor, returns home to the Red Rocket Truck Stop after the death of Shaun. Her friends greet her with less than open arms.

The world trembled with the anticipation for the nearing dawn, the only sound in the silence the scrapping of her boots on the pavement. Madison, the Sole Survivor, with tears spilling from her eyes, made her way back to the Red Rocket truck stop she and her friends called home. She hadn’t seen them in weeks. But now, as eager as she was to see their smiling faces, to laugh at MacCready’s jokes, to smile sheepishly under Codsworth’s berating, to feel her cheeks burn with embarrassment at Cait’s flirtatious teasing, to feel her heart flutter at Nick Valentine’s subtle smile—a dread churned her stomach into knots and caused her feet to drag. She didn’t want to see them. Not after everything she had done. So many awful, horrible things.

“Is something wrong, ma’am?” X6-88 was heard from behind where he trailed her, aviators shielding his expressionless eyes.

“They’re going to hate me, X,” Madison managed to sob quietly.

“You did what you had to do to ensure the survival of the Institute, ma'am. Surely they will understand.”

There was no point discussing the matter further. She knew the Courser was programmed to have unfailing loyalty in the Institute. No matter of explaining would get him to realize that the Brotherhood and the Railroad were more than just threats. They were people.  _Good_  people. Friends even. The knot clenched tighter in the pit of her stomach. She had tried. She tried desperately to work things out civilly, convince Deacon and Desdemona and the rest to give the Institute a second chance, that they could change their ways, but they wouldn’t hear it. And she tried to leave, tried to back out of the dirty business she had gotten herself into trusting Shaun as blindly as she did. But X6-88 blocked the door, gave her a nod. There would be no backing out now. Madison shut her eyes, her feet fumbling beneath her. She could still hear the screams that mingled with the zapping of laser pistols. She could still see her friends, staring expressionlessly into space, shocked, disappointed, betrayed, blood everywhere. As much as she had seen in her days in the Commonwealth, Madison was never as horrified as she was at herself that day at the Railroad Headquarters.

And then she stopped dead in her tracks. There it was, rising into view: the Red Rocket truck stop. A part of her wanted to run, to turn around not even bother. But her heart ached for some condolence. After all, she had just lost Shaun, after searching so long as so relentlessly, after working so hard for his approval, for his time, for his love. With hands still bloodied by her friends that lay dead in the old church and the mass grave that was the airport, she cradled his head and said her goodbyes as his life, a parentless life spent dedicated a hundred and ten percent to the Institute, slipped away. He left the Institute in her hands, but they didn’t need her. She had gone and solved all of their problems already, rid them of all opposition. The people were courteous enough, but they did not like her, and they did not want her. So Madison headed on her way back home. And with home now peeking over the horizon, she wasn’t so sure what to do.

A bark stirred her from her thoughts, and before she had a moment to act, Madison was tackled in the furry embrace of Dogmeat, who smothered her with devoted licks of happiness. X6-88, having pulled his gun, relaxed to hear her laugh beneath what appeared to be the beast’s onslaught of mindless violence. She pushed the hairy canine from atop her and got back to her feet, smiling down at the dog that couldn’t stay still he was so overwhelmingly happy to see her. She looked back to the Red Rocket truck stop, suddenly convinced that a similar greeting awaited her from her companions, though with a lot less slobering. With a relieved sigh, she marched up the hill back home, her dog prancing about in front of her.

Seeing as though it wasn’t quite morning yet, most all of the people who called Red Rocket home were fast asleep in the metal bunker behind the truck stop, but a single person sat at the bar inside, puffing on a cigarette. She entered hesitantly, leaning in the doorway. She wondered what to say, whether to be cheery, putting the dreadful past few weeks behind her, to or confess it all, let it all out to her truest of friends. But before Madison had a chance, Nick spoke up, smoke wafting out his mouth and all other fissures in his artificial skin.

“Couple of sources saying that you were the one leading the Institute on The Prydwen. So, you wanna tell me why you did it? Why you sided with those boogymen?”

She was stung by the remark, and the words tumbled out of her mouth defensively before she had time to consider them. “Was there really any other option..? The Institute were the only ones trying to preserve humanity, Nick.”

“Preserving humanity?!” The anger shone in Nick’s glowing yellow eyes, the cigarette crumbling in his metal fist. “That’s what we’re calling taking out The Brotherhood!? The Railroad!? All those lives lost… for what?! So a group of mad scientists can keep plundering the Commonwealth to their heart’s content? Is that truly the world you want to live in?”

Taking the blow straight to her heart, she had no other option than to do what she had always done best: shut everyone out and put on an emotionless front. “This seems like it’s personal, Nick…”

“I ain’t thrilled to see the folks who gave me the boot coming out on top. But this!? This is bigger than that!” A frustrated sigh escaped him as he looked back out the window, disappointment written all over his defensive posture and tone. “You know, since the first time we met, I always got the sense that you were gonna change this place. I just never expected it’d be like this.”

There was a silence that followed, a silence in which Nick Valentine heard his own words and suddenly wondered… what was he doing? As mad as he was at all the terrible things Madison had done while with the Institute, he knew her better than that. He knew that she would never betray her friends, or kill unnecessarily, or especially treat any synths like how the Institute treated them. No, there was something else at work, some other factor manipulating the poor girl into being someone she wasn’t. Nick turned back to the doorway, an apology ready to stumble out of his lips, but there was no one there to apologize to. Feeling guilt replacing the anger that had taken a hold of him, Valentine lit himself a new cigarette as the sun began to peek shyly over the horizon, blessing the small settlement with one more day. The smoke rolled out of Valentine’s mouth as his eyes fell to the bar, desolate. The Sole Survivor was gone. And he had no reason to believe that she would ever return again.


	2. A Broken Crib for Broken Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madison disappears from the Red Rocket Truck Stop, and Valentine knows exactly where to find her.

“Have you seen Blue at all?”

Valentine had heard it a hundred times, from Piper, from Cait, from Codsworth, from MacCready, from everyone. He hadn’t breathed a word about her having shown up, only to be run off by his temper. He knew they would be angry to hear he had driven her away, but most of all he feared they’d be angry to learn what she had done to the Brotherhood and the Railroad. He had kept that a secret from them too. But the worry haunting all of their faces, the constant glances towards to road, towards the fried transporter, the silence that filled the space where light banter and easy laughter had once occupied—it was all getting to him, causing his guilt to grow like a cancer.

“I’m sorry Piper, I haven’t,” came his standard answer, and after a minute, he finally said something novel on the subject. “But I’m going to head over to Sanctuary. See if she’s maybe holed up there.”

“Why would she be there and not here with us?” Cait asked bitterly.

“Well she was headed to the Institute to find her son,” Valentine shrugged. “Maybe something happened. Maybe she found him. Maybe she’s showing him around the old neighborhood they used to live in, you know? I’m just going to be sure.”

“I’ll come with you!” Came ten different offers, all of which Valentine turned down with a shake of his head.

“Imagine how upset she’ll be if she finds this place got sacked by raiders while we all went out looking for her. I’ll only be a minute.”

And with that, Valentine slipped away from the truck stop and headed up the road to where the desolate, crumbling neighborhood of Sanctuary Hills was nestled. As he crossed over the half-destroyed bridge and into the neighborhood, he found it as quiet and depressing as ever, weaving around rusting skeletons of cars and heaps of collapsed roofs, bright paint turned dull and peeling from the houses, trees fallen left and right on top of dead grass and torn up pavement. Valentine knew which house had belonged to Madison—she had pointed it out one day as they passed through the neighborhood—and he made his way towards it, finding himself unconsciously slowing his pace the closer he neared.

He wasn’t sure he  _wanted_  to find Madison, or more accurately, he couldn’t be sure he wasn’t going to blow a fuse with her again. He stepped through the door, which sat crooked on its rusted hinges. He paused a moment to listen, picking up a faint sound from further in the house. Silently, each step meticulously placed around the pieces of collapsed roof and splintering walls and smashed furniture. He got to the back of the short little hallway, poking his head into one of the doorways and freezing where he stood. Sitting there on the dust-covered floor, among the rubble of her old life, beside the mangled remains of a crib, was Madison. She was curled in a ball, face buried in her knees as she sobbed hopelessly. And that sight, in that moment... that was that for Nick Valentine. Any anger he had felt at her for all the reckless killing, the blind siding with the Institute, it all took a backseat as he realized something very important, something that should have been more obvious to him the night she returned home.

“It’s Shaun, isn’t it?” He piped up, his voice low and sad.

Madison looked up, startled by the sudden intrusion of a voice, and remaining quite tense to find the voice belonged to Valentine, who presumably now hated her guts. Despite this, the synth looked immeasurably sad, and made his way over to join her in sitting on the floor, his old rusted joints creaking in protest.

“What happened..?” He prompted gently.

She looked into his face, damaged and grey as it was, and felt herself give in to the warmth of his glowing yellow eyes.

“I found Shaun” she began, her voice thick from the tears and sobs that had plagued her for hours on end.

Valentine wanted to comment, to say that something must have gone wrong if he wasn’t here now, but he held his tongue, seeing the delicate, emotional state his dear friend was in. Slowly, she continued at her own pace.

“I-…. I thought it had been ten years since he had been kidnapped… but-… but it had been sixty years instead…”

Valentine was surprised, but it was just as logical as her son being gone ten years. After all, it was obvious from what Madison had told him that she had no sense of time while frozen in the Vault.  _Any_  amount of time could have passed between Shaun’s kidnapping and her eventual escape from the Vault.

“The Institute… they had taken him because he was the only human infant that hadn’t been exposed to that radiation from the bombs, which meant his DNA was intact, free of mutation. They used him, his DNA, as a basis for all their lifelike synths. And eventually, he became the Director of the Institute. That’s how I stumbled upon him: grey hair, grey beard, placid and unemotional as any old brainwashed follower. But his eyes… he had his father’s eyes…”

The tears came back fresh and mournful, and it was all Valentine could do to be a shoulder for her to cry on. He wasn’t sure his cold, metal embrace would be much help, but he gave it to her anyways, wanting to offer every last shred of comfort he possibly could.

“So the Director of the Institute is your son?”

“Was,” Madison corrected, the simple correction bringing about far more sobbing and shaking. It took her a good while to calm back down enough to continue in a shaky voice, which threatened to break out crying again at a moment’s notice.

“He said he wanted to be a family, but he refused to talk to me, to see me, unless I did little jobs for him. The first was to meet with X6-88, a Courser, and reclaim a synth that had become the leader of one of the most bloodthirsty gangs in the Commonwealth. It only seemed right. All the bloodshed that man caused, all the pain his was able to inflicted far beyond his years because he was a synth… that’s what they wanted, the Institute. For me to see a synth at his worst so that they could turn to against them, convert me to their ways of dealing with synths. But when Shaun sent me out again after a group of synths seeking refuge with the Railroad, I proved them all wrong. I fought my way to the synths, and when I was supposed to reboot them, help the Courser take them back, I didn’t. I let them walk, and I killed the Courser when he turned on me for it.”

“It sounds to me like you did the right thing,” Valentine commended, worried where her story was headed knowing just how brutal the ending.

“I thought so too. I still do. But I met with Shaun afterwards, on the roof of the old institute, and he just broke my heart. It was his first time ever seeing the Commonwealth, and I tried to convince him that there are good to be found here, good people like you Nick, and our friends. But he couldn’t see past the people’s hatred for the Institute. He expressed he had no desire to help the people of the Commonwealth. And then… oh god, Nick…. He told me he was dying. He was sick and he was dying and he wanted  _me_  to be his successor, but because I failed to do my job with the synth recovery, my loyalty was thrown into question… he was so angry Nick, so disappointed in me… I used to think day and night about what it would be like to be with my son again, how he would feel about being with me, meeting me, after so long… But I never once imagined he’d be  _disappointed_ , Nick…”

“I’m so sorry…” Valentine hardly had the words to describe just how much his pitied his dear friend, how much he wanted to have been there to ease her mind when she needed it most. Instead, all on her own, the heartbreak caused by her son was allowed to manifest itself in a blind desire to please him, to make him proud of her before his fast-approaching end.

“And so when he started asking me to do more for the Institute, I did it. I did it to reassure the people there that I was a worthy successor, that they were wrong to doubt my Shaun. When they asked me to finish off the Brotherhood, I did it. And when I returned, I was named Director, Shaun’s illness having pushed him to resign. The Directorate was set on destroying the Railroad by the time I took my place in it. I tried and I tried to convince them that violence wasn’t the answer, that we could make peace with the Railroad. But then Shaun personally demanded I take care of them, sent me along with X6-88….”

“So you just… killed them all?”

“No!!” She snapped defensively, desperately, as if to convince herself of the false truth. “I tried to talk with Desdemona, convince her that the Institute would change under my leadership, that an alliance of beliefs and technology could be reached. But she wouldn’t listen. She turned a blind ear to me and showed me the door. Even Deacon wouldn’t listen. And I tried to leave. I thought that maybe if I ran far enough, hid well enough, the Institute would never find me and punish me for not keeping my promise… by X6-88 blocked the exit… I had no choice… I just started shooting… Nick, I don’t know what happened to me!! They were my friends, Nick!! I didn’t want to kill them!!”

The crying began again, but Valentine was too numbed by this new information to be much of a comfort. He looked at his friend, or the broken shell that was left of her.

“Did you at least get to spend some quality time with your son for all your dirty work he had you do for him?”

Madison looked at Valentine with bloodshot eyes, shimmering with tears. “I got back, the blood of my friends still soaking my clothes, and I found him on his deathbed. The only time we had together was me holding his hand as he told me he was proud of me, and he finally told me he loved me. But even then, in our last moments together, his intent was clear: take care of the Institute at all costs. I wonder how much of my son was actually left in the man I met, after the Institute had taken root in his head. There really couldn’t have been much… it would have been different, if we could have just been a family…”

The tears had stopped, leaving her eyes red and puffy but stone cold as she turned her gaze to the decaying baby crib. “I just wanted my baby back… not… not  _this_ …”


	3. A Smile for One is the Aching Heart of Another

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slowly, Madison returns to a normal life as her friends gradually forgive her for the horrible things she did for the Institute, and from Madison's growing happiness buds Nick Valentine's own jealousy.

The road to recovery was a difficult one for the Sole Survivor to say the least. Once Valentine had coaxed her out of her crumbling house and back to the Red Rocket truck stop, she had no choice but to re-tell her story to the rest of her friends, who listened in shocked silence. They, too, couldn’t believe that their friend, the brightest ray of hope in all the Commonwealth, had turned so dark in the weeks she spent on her own, at the Institute, blinded by her devotion to the son that grew up without her love and wasted no time or energy seeking it out. It would be a lie to say her friends forgave her off the bat. It’s a difficult thing, accepting that your hero is not the hero you once thought them to be. So Madison stayed at the truck stop, but she kept her distance from everyone. She put up a wall between herself and the people she had once trusted with her life. After all, it wasn’t as if her friends didn’t set the stones in place to begin with; she was just the one who took the liberty to cement it all in place.

There were nights where Madison would up and disappear, and her friends would get to talking, to finally discussing their thoughts and opinions on the matter of her inexcusable actions made in the name of the Institute. Nick Valentine did all he could to convince them to realize just how far gone Madison had been without them, to see that without their support she would fall further down the dark path she was set on. But he couldn’t do much, or at least didn’t have the time to. Someone had to go after the poor woman, as it were. If no one did, Valentine was beyond convinced all they’d find of her in the morning would be a corpse shot full of holes and torn up by rabid animals.

Fortunately, the routine didn’t last forever. After some time had passed, Madison’s companions began to try and talk to her once more. Once the ice was broken, the healing took place much quicker than before. And when friendships that were once broken begin to heal, they sometimes grow back differently than they were before. This was the case between Madison and MacCready, who while close before, suddenly grew intimately so. It was no secret around the settlement the looks the two of them exchanged, or the late night walks, or the little smiles they both let slip when the thought the other wasn’t looking. Once, Valentine woke up in the middle of the night, headed to the garage for a smoke, and found Cait and Hancock with their ears to cups, pressed to the wall, and dirty grins plastered shamelessly on their faces.

“What do you two think you’re doing?” Valentine chided as he plucked a cigarette from its pack, giving them a disapproving scowl.

“Oh piss off, Valentine!” Cait growled quietly. “You just don’t get it! You ain’t got the parts to understand.”

“Be that as it may,” Valentine countered with a raised eyebrow. “I know an invasion of privacy when I see one. Give our friend some peace, would you?”

“Yeah, but get this Valentine, I know you’re gonna get a kick out of this,” Hancock grinned. “She’s with MacCready.”

“What!?” The outburst came impulsively from the synth, who found himself crouched at the wall between the two, straining to hear whatever was causing the Irish gal and ghoul to get off. “You’ve got to be kidding me! That scum bag!?”

Cait laughed. “Don’t look now Nicky, but your peeling cheeks are turning quite red!”

“Got a thing for the Vault girl?” Hancock let out a raspy chuckle. “Should’ve made your move while you still could, Valentine.”

“No, she wouldn’t get together with MacCready,” Valentine protested. “Sure they’re close friends, but nothing more, right?”

“Sorry to burst your bubble,” Cait sighed as she pressed a cup to the wall and listened once more. “But that there bed is telling quite a different story, Nicky.”

Valentine ignored the high five that was exchanged above his head by the two trouble-making colleagues, too absorbed in the confusing set of feelings registering in his head. He was happy, happy for Madison; she found love again after losing her husband  _and_  now her son too. But he was… angry? Jealous, maybe? Selfish? But why, Valentine couldn’t quite get his head around it. Was it true? Did he love her?  _Could_  he even love?

“Come on, switchboard,” Cait groaned as she hauled the detective to his feet, with a little assistance from Hancock on Valentine’s other side. “No use sitting around here, not gettin’ no sleep. You can’t just wish yourself into her bed, after all. Hell, if it were that easy, I’d be there in a heartbeat!”

“Not if I beat you to it, Caitie-girl,” Hancock sneered, helping her to walk the shocked Valentine back to the bunker where everyone slept.

“You’re on, ghoul-face!”

Though things were looking up at the Red Rocket truck stop for most, Nick Valentine found himself begrudgingly obsessed over the relationship blooming between the Sole Survivor and MacCready. He found himself spiting the mercenary with every little gesture he performed, and scoffing at every gracious blush and loving smile that came over Madison’s visage. More than once Valentine found himself storming away from the settlement to pick flowers, muttering darkly to himself about showing MacCready how a  _real_  man steals a woman’s heart. But the flowers never made it back to the truck stop. Valentine always returned, dragging his feet, never empty handed, but never toting any tokens of his undying affection.

“Hey Valentine! Where’d you run off to?” Madison would smile, the fresh baby face she had met him with turned battered and scared by her tribulations in the Commonwealth.

“Oh, you know,” Valentine would shrug. “Just gathering supplies. Thought you might want some more stimpaks. At the rate you plow through them, you can never have enough of these around.”

“Gee, thanks Valentine!” She grinned, giving him a playful punch to the arm. “Hey, Cait’s rounding up the gang for some good old fashion poker tonight. You in, or you in?”

Valentine couldn’t help but smile, always glad to see even an ounce of enthusiasm come from that shattered saddened heart of hers. “You didn’t leave me with much of a choice there, pal.”

“Didn’t need to. I know your answer, Nick. Especially with cigarettes and spare screws on the line.” She winked at him before turning to return to her work around the settlement, repairing leaks in the metal bungalows, testing the soil chemistry in the garden, sharing a laugh to keep everyone smiling.

Valentine felt an ache in his chest, one that only grew worse when MacCready took a spot at her side. The pain was almost unbearable, but Nick knew that despite it all, he would still venture out again on the arrival of the following day, leaving to collect flowers and returning to have his heart cleaved in two all over again. But what else could he do? He didn’t dare risk Madison’s happiness by jeopardizing what she had with MacCready. For all Valentine knew, she didn’t share a single ounce of his feelings of affection. And with a heavy sigh, the detective willed himself to move along, lend a hand to somebody, make their little world a better place. He wasn’t about to be excused from his responsibilities on account of a love-sick synthetic heart.


	4. Relapse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just when it seems the companions have their old friend back, Madison up and disappears. Nick Valentine searches desperately to find her, and when the truth is revealed, it shocks them all.

Just when all was looking up, she relapsed. Despite her tender, budding relationship with MacCready, Madison quickly slipped into isolation once more. One day, she was working in the garden, cracking jokes, smiling, laughing, kissing MacCready all the way to bed when the sun went down. But the next morning, she was gone.

“Hey Valentine!” MacCready called thickly and quietly into the pre-dawn darkness, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he worked to pull on a pair of pants along with his dirty old t-shirt. “Did Mads already come out here or something?”

Nick Valentine sat at the bar, staring out the window as he smoked his cigarettes, a very routine early morning for him. He gave MacCready a not-so-friendly side glance.

“Haven’t seen her,” he answered flatly, hesitating a moment but adding “shouldn’t she be testing the bedsprings with you?”

MacCready’s face turned a bright shade of red at the synth’s blatant remarks, but his worry clouded his sleepy head and prevented any retaliating witticism. “So if you haven’t seen her… and she’s not with me…” He paused, suddenly awake as the cold reality hit him like a train. “You don’t think she-…”

“I’ll find her.” Valentine was already out the door, cigarette left smoldering on the bar top. “Try not to let this place go to the dogs while I’m gone, MacCready.”

But that was the thing. Valentine  _didn’t_  find her. He was out searching the entire day and through the following night, utilizing every last trick up his detective sleeve to try and pick up even so much as a sign as to where she had gone. Despite his new-found begrudging attitude towards the Sole Survivor due to her choice of sleeping partner—and more specifically, that choice not being him—Nick still loved her, both romantically and as his closest and dearest friend. And deep inside, he felt guilty. Guilty because he had seen this coming, had seen the smile on her face become a façade, hear her laughter turn canned and fake as a laugh track, noticed her increasing tendency towards quiet introversion as opposed to socializing. He had selfishly hoped these things were signs that her and MacCready’s relationship had hit some bumps, and that things were sure to fall out sooner or later. Valentine only wanted an opportunity to stake a claim on the heart that had so much power over his own. Instead, it was now looking like he may never even see her again.

Valentine returned to the Red Rocket truck stop to find every last face plastered with worry and fear. The moment he stepped foot onto the paved property, he was swarmed with questions and hopeful eyes wide like that of children. He didn’t want to be the one to snuff out that hope with his less than encouraging news, but fortunately for him, his silence said all that needed to be said. The hopeful faces turned sorrowful once more as they turned and dragged their feet back to their duties. Valentine returned to his bar and his cigarettes. What else could he do? But the moment the cigarette met his lips, his face soured, the cigarette flicked from his fingers and crushed by his boot. No, he wasn’t about to give up.

With a whistle, Dogmeat came running inside the truck stop, tail wagging like a whirlwind.

“Come on boy,” Valentine said as he marched back towards the road, straightening his hat as he did. “We’ve got a friend to find.”

A week passed by, both painfully slow and alarmingly quick, before Valentine was seen at the truck stop again. He returned empty handed, head bowed, with a flat-eared, tail-tucked Dogmeat in tow. He refused to admit she was gone. But she had never been away his long before, and never had she gone this far from the settlement. Not alone, at least. A million selfish thoughts were racing about in Valentine’s head, all about how he would never see her fresh face and intelligence blue eyes and brilliant innocent smile. He’d never get to hear her voice like a melody as she would go on and on about things from before the war, about science, about the things that were fascinating her for the day; knowing she would ramble on not knowing if anyone was listening at all, but Valentine was always listening. Worst of all was knowing that he would never get to tell her how much she truly meant to him, how every time he had been angry at her it wasn’t because he was disappointed or mad or anything of the sort, but because he was worried about her, about what the ruthless Commonwealth was doing to her. But it was for the best, Valentine thought as he comforted a whimpering Dogmeat. After all, she was sure to reject his feelings anyways.

“Nick!!” Piper’s voice was heard shrill and hoarse as the truck stop loomed into view for the synth. “Get over here, quick!!”

Raiders, Valentine though as he pulled his pistol from its holder. Or super mutants. Or mole rats. It didn’t matter, so long as whatever they were now, they would be dead before long. But as Valentine rushed to aid in protecting the settlement, he found a disturbing lack of activity going on around the truck stop, and a curious lack of commotion for what Nick thought was a threat.

“Hurry up Nick!! You’re missing it!” Piper snagged the detective by the sleeve and drug him into the garage, where everyone stood huddled around their radio, listening intently to what was being broadcasted.

“What is all this abo-” The synth’s words were cut short as he heard Madison’s voice loud and clear, though broken by some static here and there.

“—I know that many of you fear the Institute, even hate them, or actively work against them. But I also know that many of you have heard of the good deeds I have done. Of the people I’ve helped, the lives I’ve rebuilt, the threats my Minutemen and I have subdued, or even eliminated. And I know that it’s not news to anyone to hear that I’m also the new Director of the Institute. And you all know that both the Brotherhood of Steel and the Railroad were destroyed by the Institute. I want to clear things up. That  _wasn’t_  the Institute; that was me. And there’s far more to it than that, but I can’t explain myself over the radio. That’s why I’m inviting everyone, all people who call the Commonwealth their home, to meet with me at the Minutemen Castle to the south east. If you require protection on your journey, the Minutemen will provide this protection upon request. There will be no soldiers from the Institute at this meeting, in fact no one from the Institute at all apart from myself. No one will harm you. Hell, you can put a bullet in my head and none of my Minutemen or Institute synths will ever lay a finger on you in retaliation. Some come one come all. A new leader means a whole new Institute. Come find out what you have to look forward to.”

There was dead silence as the broadcast cut to static, and began to repeat itself.

“What the bloody hell..!?” Cait was the first to pipe up.

“She’s going to get herself killed!” MacCready yelled, anger in his voice but concern the only thing written on his face.

“Wait a second, the Minutemen?” Valentine thought aloud, suddenly tuning on Preston Garvey. “You knew! You knew this was going on! You helped her! Why didn’t you say anything, Garvey!?”

“She made me swear not to!” Preston’s hands shot straight up in innocence. “Don’t worry, she’s not alone! The Minutemen are already at Castle, and X6 accompanied her.”

Hancock shook his head. “You left her alone with the Courser, when she’s about to reveal Institute secrets,” He couldn’t help but pinch at his temple at the stupidity of it all. “Nice, Garvey. Real nice.”

“Look, she said to trust her! You guys of all people should know just how much you can trust her!” Preston defended gently.

There was a brief silence, with instances of a couple grumbles and the sound of MacCready’s fist hitting the wall. Preston was right, of course. They  _could_  trust her. Normally. But Valentine knew that she wasn’t fully right in the head anymore. At least not now.

“I’m going after her,” he spoke up, voice resolute and even. “I sure as hell hope things work out for her, but if they don’t, I’m going to be there for her.”

“I’m going with you, Valentine,” MacCready said, expression dark. “I’ve already lost one woman that I loved. I’m not going to risk losing another.”

The ‘no’ was ready to roll right of Valentine’s tongue, but he bit it back. As much as he wanted to be the hero swooping in for Madison, he couldn’t deny MacCready the peace of mind that came with looking out for the Sole Survivor.

No one argued. No one else volunteered to go, despite every last one of them wanting to be there for their friend. As it were, Valentine had said it before: someone had to make sure the truck stop wasn’t overrun with raiders while Madison was gone.

 

“Sure we can keep the place standing without you two around?” Piper asked as she watched Valentine and MacCready pack for their journey across the Commonwealth.

MacCready flashed a rare smile. “If we’re all being honest with ourselves, I’m sure everything will run smoother without us jamming up the works.”

Piper laughed. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, mercenary. No one cleans up Braham manure better than you!”

MacCready muttered some awfully dark language under his breath as he slung a backpack over his shoulder, heading out as Valentine shouldered his bag.

“Don’t go turning to scrap metal out there, Nick. Got it?”

“Me?” Nick smiled. “Even if I did, you know our junk hoarding Vault dweller will just bring me all back and put me together again.”

And with that, Valentine hit the road beside MacCready, the two of them walking at double the usual pace as their worry and imagination concocted up the worst possible thoughts of what could happen if they didn’t make it to Madison on time.


	5. Mankind--Redefined

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the Minutemen Castle, Madison gives her speech to the people of the Commonwealth, fearing an attempt on her life.

She could hear the people gathering outside, the anger and outrage in their voices carrying farther than their actual words. Madison wouldn’t admit it, but she was terrified. She sat in one of The Castle rooms, hugging her knees, staring at the wall, her mind mulling over the prepared speech topics she had hammered out with X6. That’s what this all was, a big compromise. Her and the Institute. A balance of doing the right thing and keeping the Institute afloat. But would they understand? Her shoulders tensed at the thought. The people of the Commonwealth were angry with her. They were scared, but they weren’t about to cower under her command.

“That’s the last of them, ma’am.”

X6’s voice. At this point, it had become just as comforting as anyone of her friends’, but still there was a shiver down her spine at the sound. Like having a wolf at her side, docile now, but not unwilling to attack if provoked. And she sure had been provoking him with this whole ‘majorly reforming the Institute’ ordeal.

“Thanks X.” She responded automatically, not budging from her spot on the floor.

After a minute, he walked over to her and offered a hand. Her eyes trailed from the wall to look at the offered help, taking it hesitantly, feeling his synthetic strength haul her effortlessly to her feet. She looked at him, at the sunglasses reflecting back at her, wondering just how easily he could snap her neck if he ever had the urge…

“I’m sorry, I-…” she stuttered, not sure what she was about to say.

“There’s no need to be nervous, ma’am. The people will listen to you. That’s why they’re here.”

“More likely they’re here to turn my body into swiss cheese…” she admitted sheepishly.

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand the reference, ma’am.”

“Swiss cheese, it’s full of holes,” she explained with a shrug. “I’m saying everyone's probably here to shoot me.”

“Don’t worry ma’am. I’ve positioned all who didn’t wish to surrender their weapons to the back of the crowd. They won’t have a clear enough shot to eliminate you.”

She looked at him, surprised. She knew she shouldn’t be, as his prime directive  _was_ to protect the Institute, and she was its Director. But still. She thought after all the reforms she was about to make, he’d decide the Institute was safer without her than with her.

“Your speech, ma’am. We should begin.”

“Right…” Madison nodded, smoothing out her leather jacket and dusting off her cargo pants. Taking a deep breath, she walked out into the courtyard, and almost stopped dead.

There were so many people! She had hardly expected much of a turnout, but by the looks of it, half the Commonwealth had decided to show. People were packed in to the very walls, and spilling back out the gate. The Minutemen had even let some people join them on the ramparts, which were now nearly packed as full as a can of sardines. She knew she looked shocked, but she didn’t bother to try and hide the expression as she continued to her makeshift stage, where a radio transmitter was placed to project over the loudspeakers of the Castle. And then she was standing in front of them all, hundreds if not thousands of eyes fixed on her, expectant. She opened her mouth and drew in a long breath before speaking.

“I’d first like to thank you all for making the trip out here. I know it was a long and dangerous journey, and I’d like to inform all of you that we plan to provide all of you with food, provisions, and protection for your trips home. Plus shelter here for any who wish to begin the journey home tomorrow morning.”

An approving murmur rumbled through the crowd. If there was any way to reach the hearts of these people, it was through their stomachs and their guns. Feeling her tension melt away as the crowd grew more placid, Madison continued.

“Alright. So the plan here is that I inform you all of the reforms coming to the Institute now that I have taken charge, and what it will mean to the people of the Commonwealth, as well as make some much needed apologies. Once done, I will open it up to any questions you might have.”

She paused, letting her words sink in before continuing.

“Many of you know me. Not long ago, I was new to the Commonwealth, having been frozen in Vault 111 for over two-hundred years. During that time, I was unfrozen, and some people came and took my infant son, killing my husband in the process. I was frozen once more, and when I thawed for the final time, I left the Vault in search of my son. While trying to find him, I helped many of you here, fighting off Raiders and eliminating threats to honest farms with the Minutemen, a group that I helped rebuild to the size and formidability that it is today. I worked with the Railroad, helping escaped synths from this terrible and secretive Institute I kept hearing about in angry whispers.

What many of you don’t know if that I  _did_  find my son. I had no sense of the time that passed between his kidnapping and my eventual escape. I first thought very little time had passed, and then evidence arose to suggest it had been ten years, and that my son was kidnapped by this horrible Institute. So I worked to get there. I hacked into their molecular relay system, and I teleported to the Institute. There, I found not only my son, but that it had been  _sixty_  years since his kidnapping, not ten. My son Shaun was the Director of the Institute. He wanted to prove to me that the Institute,  _his_  Institute, was not what the stories said it was. So I began helping the Institute, helping my son. At first, it was simple tasks, no-brainers. I helped recover a synth that had turned into a ruthless raider leader and was wreaking havoc and death upon the eastern Commonwealth. I helped them talk a scientists in the Commonwealth into joining the minds at the Institute.

But then Shaun, my son… he trusted me, trusted me to listen to his logic, to perform tasks for the Institute I knew in my heart were wrong. I helped secure some much needed components for their reactor, killing many Brotherhood members in the process. They sent me to reclaim synths from the Railroad, my friends; innocent, harmless, synths. I didn’t hold up my end on that one. The moment I saw those synths, saw the fear in their eyes, I let them go, and turned on the Courser assigned to help me recover them. My son was furious with me. My heart ached to hear him so angry, to see him shut out my attempts at loving him, at making my family whole again, all because I didn’t do what the Institute wanted. And that’s when he told me he was dying. Some untreatable disease. He wanted me to succeed him,  _needed_  me to prove myself to the other leaders of the Institute that I was a worthy and dedicated successor. So I redoubled my efforts. I stopped thinking about what I was being asked to do and started thinking only of my son, of Shaun, who was dying, and who I wanted to know I loved him. He wanted the Institute to be safe. So he sent me to eliminate the Brotherhood of Steel. And I did. I thought he would be happy with that, with the greatest long-term threat to the Institute eliminated. But he wasn’t. He wanted the Railroad gone, didn’t want to see them become strong enough to do the Institute harm. I pleaded with him over the matter, but he made his position quite clear. It was eliminate the Railroad leaders or be shunned by my dying son, after all the blood and sweat and tears that went into finding him. I went to the Railroad headquarters with a pit in my stomach, and I pleaded desperately with Desdemona to do something different, compromise, see reason. But she pointed me to the door and wouldn’t hear a word of what I had to say. I tried to leave, to run away from it all, but the Courser blocked the door. I pointed my gun, shut my eyes, and began shooting. When I opened them, there was nothing but blood. I was led out as I began to shake uncontrollably, crying, screaming, drove insane with instant and utter regret. The only flicker of hope left in my life was that now my son and I could be a family together. I had done everything he asked for the Institute. But when I returned, he was lying in bed, the life fading fast from his eyes. The tears were already in my eyes from what I had done to the Railroad, and they continued with the newfound reality of losing my son….”

Her voice broke off, and it took her a minute to gather herself again. When she did, there was a tremble in her voice that made it clear she was crying to all who couldn’t see the tears rolling down her face shamelessly.

“Even those last few moments together, his intentions were clear. Protect the Institute. Do what was best for the Institute. How awful is it… to realize, in your son’s dying moments, that you don’t want him to be your son at all? Because that’s exactly what I wanted. That brainwashed old man, who turned me into a murderer, who tugged at my heartstrings to puppeteer me into his bidding, who only called me mother because that I what I was biologically to him, not mentally, not emotionally. He said, as the last breaths left him lungs, that he was proud of me, that he loved me. And I sobbed the same to him. But in those hours of reflection after his death, alone in his quarters, alone with my guilt, my conscious, my actions… I knew I was not proud. But I couldn’t blame Shaun, not entirely. I should have been there for him. I should have raised him to be the honorable, gentle man I always hoped he’d be. Instead, he was raised by science and logic and loyalty to the Institute. He became the indifferent, ruthless man that I turned a blind eye to, and saw my son in his stead.”

She lifted her head, staring the crowd down with brave humility.

“I take full responsibility for my actions. It doesn’t matter why they were taken, because that doesn’t fix what I’ve done.  _I_  brought about the demise of the Brotherhood of Steel.  _I_ murdered the leaders of the Railroad. And I am not proud of that. I can never hope to make up for those massive mistakes, but I can’t afford to dwell on the past either. I have made the hard decision to move forward, to hope that I may honor those that I have so terribly wronged by making the right choice here and now.”

Her voice lowered, the tears threatening again in the shakiness.

“And… Deacon…. I-…” she hesitated. “I-I don’t know if you’re out there, if you’re listening, but-... I know you’re not dead. I  _purposefully_  didn’t kill you Deacon. Because I don’t want to wipe out the Railroad. I never did. And the Institute, they don’t even know you exist.” She laughed a little. “I mean, they do now. Well,  _I_  do. I haven’t snitched to anyone, or anything like that. Deacon, I never expect to hear from you ever again. I fully expect you to hate my guts, and if anyone kills me today, I have no doubt in my mind it’ll be you. And rightfully so. But hear me out. Because the Commonwealth still needs the Railroad, still needs someone standing up for the synths. Rebuild the Railroad, Deacon.... but that’s a point to make a little bit later in this speech, so…. I’ll leave you at that for now…”

She raised her voice, chest puffing out slightly.

“I proudly represent the Institute, the future of humanity! Forget what you think you know about us, because I’m here to prove you wrong! The past of the Institute includes many not-so-proud moments. We have replaced people with synths. We have killed many with deployment of synths and Coursers. We did eliminate the Brotherhood of Steel and the Railroad. But the past is the past. Under Shaun’s leadership, the Institute was an institution to fear. Under my leadership, the fear and the paranoia and the injustice will all come to an end. The Institute is here now to help rebuild the Commonwealth, and not in the way you’ve seen us try before. Having spent time here, I know there is no point to trying to build a government and force people to live under it. You’re all doing an excellent job as it is. People are trying to rebuild, but there are certain things making it all quite difficult. Raiders and supermutants threatening establishments both big and small, a shortage of hands to till the soil, a distrust before brothers. These things are keeping the Commonwealth in shambles. And I have a proposition that will help amend these issues.

“I’m going to assume that you are all familiar with the term synth. You think that if somehow represents a being lesser than you, not worthy of trust, not worthy of respect, not worthy of your acceptance.” A wry smile came to her face. “Bet you didn’t realize how many synths are among you today, bumping shoulders with you. Want to know why? Because despite what you as humans are inclined to believe, synths are people too. Not a lesser class of people, but fully-fledged people, through and through. The synths among you are the Institute’s first successful class of graduated synths. They completed our new four-week program to introduce them to the both the life of a synth working for the Institute, as well as what life is like here in the Commonwealth, farming and fighting and working to better the world. At the end of those four weeks, each and every synth met with me personally, talked to me about their experiences, their fears, their desires. And they chose their place in the world. Those that stand among you chose to live in the Commonwealth, to farm for others, to join the Minutemen and protect the people, and to be trustworthy, productive members of the Commonwealth. The food you eat and take with you today? Produced by the gentle and dedicated hands of your brothers the synths. The beds many of you will rest your heads in for the night? Constructed by the hands of the synths. The guns that watch the walls and keep you safe, that escort you to your homes, held in the hands of synths.

“This is the future that the Institute is building. A future where synths are not a tool of the Institute, treated like property, repressed, but instead are members of society, friends, brothers, neighbors. Accepted. Given the same rights right out of the laboratory as a baby born from the womb. Given a voice. Given a name. The synths that remain in the Institute by their choice? They will works to help our scientists further science. Not the sort of science that produces two headed mice and horrendous weapons, but the kind that makes more resilient hybrids of crops, antibiotics for diseases, more durable material for clothes and shelters.

“The Institute is here,” she said boldly, closing her speech. “And we are here to help. Mankind—redefined. I’ll answer any questions you have now.”

Slowly, the question and answers took off. The crowd was abuzz with chatter, many people skeptical of the wild promises Madison had made, but many more relieved to hear of the brighter future to come. If the people had thought the Institute could destroy the world before, they were quick to have confidence that the Institute could fix all the problems with the world now. From the far back of the crowd, Nick Valentine and MacCready stood, awestruck.

“That-… that was-…” MacCready couldn’t quite get the words out.

Valentine didn’t say a word. He wasn’t sure how he felt. On one side, he felt betrayed that she proudly represented the Institute, the people that had dumped him in the trash and left him to rust. But for her to own up to her mistakes to half the Commonwealth, to go against the Institute’s core belief system and grant all their synths rights… that took real guts, and Valentine respected that. It couldn’t possibly be easy for her. There wasn’t a single person entirely on her side; the Institute were probably begrudgingly waiting for her plans to crash and burn, and the Commonwealth only needed the tiniest excuse to erect her as an icon of all evil. But if anyone was entirely on her side, it was Valentine. And MacCready. And all her companions. Making any effort to move forward was better for her than wallowing in her past mistakes, and this plan was one hell of an effort!

The questioning died down and the crowd thinned out, heading to receive their food and provisions and claim beds in the Castle for the night. Madison was left on her stage, answering a few last questions from people that approached her. X6-88 stood by, ready to disintegrate anyone who tried so much as raise their voice at his asset. Madison smiled at a family—a synth and human couple with an adopted daughter—that took the time to thank her for what she was trying to do for synths everywhere as they walked away. Her eyes scanned the emptying courtyard, spotting among the heads two very familiar hats that she was awfully fond of. Not caring about keeping up appearances any longer, she hopped off the stage and stopped dead just as she was about to run over. Her heart fluttered in her chest, gripped by fear. What if they were angry? They had to be; she had left without telling anyone. She was about to duck away when the Valentine and MacCready spotted her, flashing her happy grins. The worry melted away from her face, leaving nothing but a brilliant smile as she ran over, tackling MacCready in a hug, laughing as he twirled her around.

“That was quite a speech you made there,” Valentine added offhandedly.

Madison smiled at him, pulling away from MacCready to hug Nick tightly.

“You found me, Mr. Valentine. Shoulda know they’d hire a detective,” Madison teased with a grin.

“I’ve found my fair share of runaway dames in my day, doll,” he said with an amused shake of his head and quiet smile, letting himself have the satisfaction of a brief moment of her touch, daring to put his own arms around her.

She kept the hug lasting a bit longer than she should have, causing MacCready to shift his footing. Noticing, Madison pulled away rather quickly, smiling innocently.

“So funny you two should be the ones to show up,” Madison began with a sheepish half-smile, not so sure they would be as excited to hear what she had to say as she was to say it. “Buut-…. We’re going on a little field trip, the three of us.”

Valentine raised an eyebrow, able to guess what she had not say but not sure he could believe she would suggest it. “And just where is this field trip to?”

“Oh, just a little place called the Institute…”

“Are you serious?!” MacCready’s eyes got so big they almost popped, his voice raising to an embarrassing octave.

Madison nodded, growing rather serious. “There’s something there I have to do. And I’d appreciate the moral support…”

“Really?” Valentine frowned. “What needs doing?”

She looked up, a determination burning in her eyes. “I’m rescuing my son.”


	6. The Higher the Alcohol Content, the Higher the Hopes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madison makes preparations to visit the Institute with Nick Valentine and MacCready to rescue her synth son, but when the stress turns into a little too much to drink, Valentine finds himself caught in the middle of a very emotionally-teasing situation

Valentine sat with MacCready and a handful of Minutemen, watching as they joked and laughed and helped themselves to a hearty dinner alongside the people of the Commonwealth who were staying at the Castle through the night. But he wasn’t paying attention to the conversation around him, or the food traveling back and forth under his nose. His eyes were fixed on the Sole Survivor, who paced at the far side of the room. She had been like that—pacing, hands fiddling with her hair, her clothes, her Pip-Boy—for hours now, practically ever since she brought up taking Valentine and MacCready to the Institute with her to recover her son. X6-88 stood with her, and Valentine could tell they were talking, tensely, the frustration impossible to detect in the Courser but written all over Madison’s furrowed brow and constantly clenching fists. Valentine wanted to get closer, to hear what they were saying, but he didn’t dare budge. Besides, he could make a fairly educated guess. She wanted to take outsiders into the Institute. X6-88 forbid it. And so the argument drug on.

Then something new happened. She left. Stopped pacing, stopped arguing, stopped fiddling, and disappeared from view. Automatically, Valentine stood to find her.

“What’s up, Valentine? Short circuit?” MacCready teased, though seriously wondering why the detective had stood up so suddenly.

“Just going to step out for a smoke. Don’t wait up.”

It took Valentine quite a while to weave through the crowds of civilians and Minutemen running amuck through the Castle, and even longer still to realize the possibility that Madison had headed for the ramparts. He climbed the stairs, scanned along the walls, spotted her sitting in one of the corners, inside the shallow crater where an ancient cannon had once lived. Hands shoved in his trench coat pockets, Valentine casually made his way over to her, could smell the liquor before he even noticed her drinking. She had stripped down out of her leather jacket and armor into nothing but a black tank top and her cargo pants, barefooted.

“Rough day?” He asked, leaning against the rampart wall.

“You have _no_ idea…” she rolled her eyes, grimacing as she turned the bottle of bourbon upside-down and began to down the half that was left.

Valentine couldn’t help but smile as her cheeks immediately puffed out, eyes widening as she clutched at her stomach, doubling over as she wretched, thankfully nothing coming up. It didn’t matter how many times she tried to drink like a sailor, she was still just as much a lightweight as the day she stumbled into Diamond City beaten and battered, utterly terrified and fresh out of the Vault.

“If you’re not careful doll it’s all just gonna come back up. Wouldn’t want to waste the good hooch like that, now would we?”

“Oh shut up Nicky…” she groaned half-heartedly, allowing herself to fall over onto her side, feeling terrible as the alcohol slowly poisoned her body and numbed her mind.

“So when are we going to the new and improved Institute?” He questioned skillfully, eyebrow raised.

“First thing tomorrow morning,” she answered.

Valentine found himself caught off guard by the answer. He thought for sure the stick-in-the-mud Courser of hers would forbid it indefinitely.

“Really?” He kept the interest in his voice to a minimum as he went for a cigarette.

She nodded as she shifted onto her back, laying there motionlessly as she stared at the darkening sky. “X was mortified at the proposal. But we hammered out the details. As long as you and MacCready don’t break anything, we’ll be golden.”

“So much for being the all-powerful Director, huh?”

Madison eyed the detective with a dangerous intensity. “I _am_ the all-powerful Director. How do you think I even got X to cave in the first place? Because the guy knows who’s in charge.”

Valentine sniffed quietly in contempt, dragging on the cigarette as he yanked his eyes away from the sight of the tank top hugging revealingly to her figure, looking instead at the courtyard and stage, remembering all the people that had packed to the walls to hear her speech. The silence lingered between them, broke only by the occasional gag as the alcohol in Madison’s stomach threatened to make an appearance.

 “We’re going after your son?” Valentine broke the silence. “I’m not sure I follow you logic there, pal…”

Madison heaved a sigh, propping herself up on her elbows so as to hold a better conversation.

“It’s not-… it’s not Shaun, the sixty year old Director the Institute… like I said, he’s dead. But-… you know how when we looked into Kellogg’s memories, he was living with Shaun, but a ten year old Shaun..?”

“Yeah, in that house in Diamond City. I remember. But he wasn’t living there very long ago. Not fifty years, at least…” Valentine let himself trail off, expecting Madison to explain.

“Shaun, the real Shaun, the Director… he made a synth, a ten year old version of himself, used it to lure me to the Institute so he could then explain who he was and how long it had been. Guess he was worried I wasn’t going to connect the dots with him being my son without some stepping stones to get me there; after all, I thought he'd be a baby, so ten years old wasn't too hard to believe, and I suppose sixty years old is the next logical step from there. But that synth child… that little version of Shaun… when my son died, my real son, he reprogrammed the child synth version of himself, made the synth believe him to be my real son. I didn’t know what to think at first, knowing that the boy is a synth, not my real son… but Nick, he’s so smart, so kind, so curious… he’s everything I always dreamt my son would be and more!”

“So when you say we’re going after your son… you mean the synth programmed to be him?” Valentine wasn’t sure what to think. On one hand, it was sweet, that she could look past the fact that the boy is a synth and adopt him into her heart as her son. But on the other hand… was she just overlooking the fact that the boy wasn’t her real son, pretending that he was for her own sake..?

“Not _be_ him. He just has his memories, his identity. It’s like you, Nick. Sure, you have the old Nick Valentine’s memories, but you? You’re your own person. The kid may think he’s my long lost son Shaun, but he’s still his own person. And that person? I love him. And I want to take him home. Let him see the world. Be free to be curious and play and experience the world. And have a mother that loves him, and looks out for him, and reads his stories at night, and fends off the monsters in the dark, and kisses the top of his head when he drifts off to sleep…”

Valentine felt his heart ache, but not the way it had before when he wished Madison loved him. This time, it ached with a sadness, a sadness for the woman who was robbed of her chance to be a mother, who saw her son turn into a monster without her there, who jumped at this opportunity to take a synthetic child into her heart where her real son left a gaping hole. Sadness for the woman who was so desperate to love like a mother that she risked breaking her heart all over again should things go south.

“No matter what I do, what I think, what I _feel_ , there’s only one thing that’s important,” Madison spoke up sternly. “I have to get that boy out of the Institute. They’ll crush his spirit there. And I won’t sit by and watch that happen.”

She looked at Valentine again, blue eyes stark with a fear always present, always haunting her like a shadow in her mind. Valentine remembered when they shone with a fearlessness bright enough to bring light to the dark, dark world. He always wondered about it, wondered what had caused that courage to be replaced with the panic. He wondered what had caused her to drink herself unconscious. He wondered what caused her to shut everyone out almost spontaneously every now and again. And he worried. Because he knew, deep down, that something was fundamentally wrong with her, ever since she was sent to the Institute in that flash of light from the relay. It was like a sickness, but Valentine knew of no cure, or any doctor that may have a clue either.

Next thing he knew, he was crossing the distance between them, crouching down to her, cradling her face in his hands. He didn’t know when she had begun crying, but she was: crying and shaking like a leaf. He opened his mouth to say something comforting, but the words didn’t come out, his eyes taking in every last detail of her beautiful face like a masterpiece in a museum, admiring every last fading pink scar and every faint freckle and how her eyes stood out in their darkened sleep-deprived sockets and the blush flooding her cheeks and the way her lips pressed together in an effort to calm herself as the tears left streaks on her warm cheeks…

And then they were kissing. Did he initiate it? Or was it her that closed the short gap between them? It hardly mattered, Valentine realized, his fingers tucking her hair behind her ears as they came down to ghost along her jaw, causing her to lift her head ever so slightly, her hands pressing to his chest, fingers twisting up into his tie. It was a rush, her beautiful warm lips on his, the taste of bourbon, the intoxicating thrill as her hands crept across his chest, his favorite dress shirt suddenly becoming an inconvenient tease as it kept her hands from reaching his bare skin. Madison didn’t have the same problem, her arms and quite a bit of chest exposed by the razorback cut to her clingy tank top, her spine curving at the touch of metal fingers across her shoulder and down her back, suddenly pressing into Valentine, hands clutching at the fabric of his coat as Madison pulled away just enough to stare up into Valentine’s eyes, breath ghosting on his lips, drawing him back in.

The detective’s eyes flickered to her neck, tilting his head as he leaned in and kissed gently at the exposed skin there, feeling himself grow lightheaded hearing the moan that escaped her. He continued a little less hesitantly, hands trailing to her waist, amazed at just how much he was driving her nuts paying attention to that spot on in the crook of her neck.

“Nick-…” Madison managed breathlessly, hands pushing him reluctantly.

Valentine pulled away, eyeing her with a mix of confusion and lustiness.

“Look,” she said, nodding to the courtyard of the Castle.

He turned his head, looking to see a group walk through the gate, recognizing them all slowly as his mind began to clear from the heady fog.

“Preston…. Cait… Hancock… Piper-… they’re all here! Why? How? The truck stop-…”

“I told them to come,” Madison cut in, already staggering to her feet, the alcohol really kicking in. “There’s an island…” Her voice trailed off, and she shrugged in exasperation with herself. “Just come on. I’ll explain it all.”

She began to walk to the stairs, swaying a dangerous amount for being up so high. Afraid that she may fall from the ramparts, Valentine hurried to fix his hat and tie and smooth the wrinkles from his clothes as he rushed to her side, escorting her to the stairs and hanging back as she struggled down them to the main floor. She stumbled out the door to the courtyard, throwing her arms wide open as her face split into a drunken grin, empty bourbon bottle still gripped in one hand.

Hancock was the first to notice she had come outside, laughing easily. “Well look who it is! Been hittin’ the booze a little hard don’t you think?”

She hugged him, allowing herself the guilty pleasure of breathing in his musty old coat.

“Hey Hancock.” She purred.

“Hey angel face.” He grinned fondly, helping her back upright, laughing as upright quickly turned into falling backwards, Madison catching herself ungracefully.

“Jeez Blue!” Piper shook her head. “Please tell me this is celebratory drinking, and not ‘the Commonwealth is after my head’ drinking.”

Madison lifted her empty bourbon to Piper with an overly serious frown. “I’ll drink to that.”

Cait scoffed. “Like hell ya will! You’re already makin’ a fool of yourself. One more drink and it’ll be lights out fer sure!”

“Would you like me to test the alcohol levels in your blood, mademoiselle?” Curie offered cheerily. “Oh, rather, Monsieur Codsworth could.”

“Right-o!” Codsworth agreed, perky as always.

MacCready then stumbled out of the building, not quite so sober himself, smiling at everyone.

“Well would you look what the cat dragged in!” He snickered, taking his spot at Madison’s side and throwing an arm around her shoulders, nearly causing her to fall over at the unexpected weight.

“I see we didn’t miss much,” Piper grumbled, crossing her arms. “Where’s Valentine? You two didn’t leave him in the bottom of a well somewhere, did you?”

“Not quite,” Valentine chuckled, leaning in the doorway to the inside of the Castle. “But it wasn’t for a lack of trying.”

“Well well well!” Hancock grinned nastily. “You’re in an awfully good mood there, Nicky. I’d like to see just how much liquor you can put away!”

“Sorry to disappoint, Hancock, but I haven’t been drinking.” He stood upright. “Come on, all of you. Let’s get some food in your bellies while I sober these two kiddos up. Then we’ll talk.”

Valentine stepped aside to let his friends inside, where they were sure to eat and talk with the Minutemen and civilians still present. But not him. The synth looked at the two bumbling idiots that were his heart’s desire and the scumbag who claimed her, watched as they exchanged a very sloppy, drunken kiss that dissolved them into giggles. He felt his fists clench as his jaw clamped into a vice, still able to feel her soft lips on his, the tug on his tie, his coat bunched in her fists, he breath fast and shallow on his neck. She was drunk, he tried to tell himself, write it all off, make his desire to repeat it all disappear. But was she really? When they started out, there hadn't been enough time for the alcohol to have kicked in... He couldn’t lie to himself. He _wanted_ more, he _had_ to have more!

“Hope she didn’t tease ya too bad, Nicky,” Hancock’s voice was heard, gently teasing, from behind.

Valentine gave the goal a glance before turning back to the drunken lovers. “You have no idea…”

“She gets like that,” Hancock shrugged, leaning against the wall. “When she’s had a bit too much to drink. A little more open, a little more physical, and a whole hell of a lot more…” he struggled for a term that wasn’t so crude. “needy.”

Valentine immediately pinned the man with his intense stare. “You two?! She’s-…”

“Yeah, once or twice,” he said, playing it off as he crossed his arms. “But she doesn’t dare bring it up when she’s sober. I used to think that maybe she had absolutely no memory of what happened, but then she hits the liquor again and she sure as hell remembers shit from the time before.” He laughed breathily. “I’ll be damned if that angel ain’t something of a devil in the sheets.”

“That’s not exactly the most appropriate topic to be discussing, is it Hancock?” Valentine’s voice was dangerously even.

“Yeah, sorry,” Hancock revised quickly, taking the hint and scurrying off in search of chems.

A small scream of surprise roused Valentine from his anger, and he looked back outside to find the Sole Survivor and MacCready on the ground, no doubt having lost their balance. With an exasperated sigh, Valentine went over and began to help them up. He gave MacCready a hand first, and had to pull with all his synthetic strength to haul all the lanky man’s dead weight back onto his feet.

“Go lie down, MacCready,” he told the man, softly but sternly. MacCready did as he was told, heading inside.

Valentine then offered a hand to Madison, but she didn’t take it, instead curling up on the ground, drifting to sleep.

“Come on, you need to get up doll…”

“No,” she mumbled in a whine. “Wanna sleep…”

“Fine. Let’s get you to a bed. Take my hand.”

“Nuh-uh,” she refused. “Sleep here.”

Tired of trying to reason with her alcohol-warped mind, Valentine resorted instead to scooping her up, one arm under her knees and the other around her shoulders, drawing her in close so as to support her head with the crook of his chest and shoulder. He walked her inside as she nestled her face in his shirt, smiling as she drew in a deep breath.

“Hey Valentine…” she mumbled prettily.

“Hey dame,” he answered back softly.

“Love you…” she sighed contentedly.

“And I love you too,” Valentine answered in a voice that was all but nonexistent, feeling his heart flutter in his chest.

He laid her in a spare bed, fetching her an extra blanket and tucking it under her chin. She blinked her pale blue eyes open sleepily, looking utterly distressed in her exhaustion and drunkenness.

“Are you leaving me…?”

Valentine smiled sadly, brushing the hair from her face with his mostly-intact hand. “Not a chance, doll.”

“Good….” She yawned, snuggling into her pillow as she quickly fell back to sleep, her voice growing further quiet and muffled. “Everyone leaves me…”

Valentine hesitated there by her side, the last words echoing in his head. _Everyone leaves me_. She had lost so much… her husband, and now her son. And Valentine wondered what more in her life before the Great War left her alone, broke her heart. Slowly, he headed for the doorway, shutting it slowly behind him as he kept his eyes fixed on her peaceful, sleeping face through the narrowing crack as door met frame. If there was anyone she could count on never to leave her, Valentine promised himself it would be him. And he would do absolutely everything to keep that promise to both himself, and to the Sole Survivor.


	7. With Power Comes Great Irresponsibility

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madison takes MacCready and Valentine to the Institute to take her synth son Shaun home, but things don't go as smoothly as they hoped...

It was an early morning, beginning before the sun graced the horizon. Madison went for a walk on the beach, feeling absolutely awful, and threw up before she had gotten very far. With the lingering poison expelled from her body, she admittedly felt a thousand times better. She found a nice spot without too much trash and debris and sat herself down, sinking her toes into the cool sand and shivering as the foamy tide lapped up around her ankles. Shutting her eyes, she breathed in the salty air, allowing her mind to drift to old memories, of visiting the beach with her family when she was young, building sand castles with her brothers, jumping into waves before they crashed and foamed to the beach, collecting seashells with her tiny sister, washing the sand from her shoes before they headed home, fear clutching her chest at the blinding onslaught of rain, eyes fixed on the windshield wipers as they sloshes water away in a frenzy, horrible scream tearing from her mother’s throat as the tires lost traction, stomach dropping as the car left the road, blinding pain as it met the ground once more, waking up in a room that smelled like lemons and death, _where’s my mommy and daddy, where’s my siblings, where’s my family_ …

Madison couldn’t get to her feet fast enough, tears spilling from her eyes as the gripping panic caused her heart to pound deafeningly in her ears. She ran as hard and as fast as she could back to the Castle, the air tearing painfully from her lungs as she tried to forget.

Slowly, people began to wake throughout the Castle. The people of the Commonwealth that still lingered packed for the trip home, and the Minutemen took up arms and prepared the escort the people. Eventually, the Castle was left empty aside from the Sole Survivor and her companions. They gathered around a table, eating breakfast, rubbing sleep from their eyes, the sun having just begun the cast its rosy glow over everything. Madison wasn’t touching her food, but nursed a Nuka Cola Cherry that she sipped every once and a while, eyes staring blankly at the woodwork of the table. She didn’t say a word until everyone had finished eating.

“Alright everyone,” she began, voice clear. “Let’s clear a few things up. Why are you here? Great question. Most of you know, a few of you don’t, so here it is: we’re moving. In the time I’ve been away from the truck stop, I was both preparing for my speech here and worked to survey the island not too far off of shore from this castle, Spectacle Island. The people who lived there before, they built a radio broadcaster that deters mirlurks. I repaired the thing, and now the island is perfectly safe for inhabiting. There’s already a greenhouse, a garage, a small farm, and a big ol’ house that’s still standing. With a little hard work, it’ll practically be paradise.”

There was a general mumble of agreement. Madison let it die down before continuing.

“So here’s the plan: all you who showed up last night—Piper, Preston, Cait, Hancock, Curie, Codsworth—you lot go on ahead and move in, start repairs, break the place in. I’ve sent word to Strong; he’s going to finish his threat assessment for our friends and fellow settlers in the north and meet up with us on the island. I’ve also sent an invitation to Danse, should by some miracle he forgive me for blowing up his friends and colleagues and decide to come live with us again. I set up some Railroad signs indicating the island as a safehouse in case Deacon should happen to poke his nose in our business again and decide to put the past behind the two of us. Again, just as doubtful as with Danse. But I just wanted to forewarn you all.

“That leaves me, Valentine, MacCready, and X unaccounted for. The four of us are making a quick trip to the Institute, where I am headed to rescue my son. Now, he’s not actually Shaun, the man who ran the Institute before me and was a total cold-hearted extension of the Institute’s ideals up until the very end. This boy is a synth who believes himself to be my son. Let me make this very clear: I accept him as my son, he has no clue he’s a synth, he’s _never_ to know he’s a synth until he’s old enough to accept that reality, and he’s to be accepted as a fully-fledged part of our little family. Alright?”

There was complete agreement from the companions, causing Madison to smile ever so slightly.

“When we return from the Institute, it will be in Sanctuary Hills. I want to show it all to Shaun before we head to Spectacle Island for good. And then we start this new chapter in our lives.”

Hancock raised a glass. “To the future of the Commonwealth! Here’s to putting an end to all the shit!”

“I’ll drink to that!” Cait laughed.

Everyone joined in on the toast, even Madison, her mood greatly improved.

And then they split ways. Within a short hour, the provisions were draw up, the building supplies and ammunition were boxed, the rowboats—newly repaired and tarred—were filled. Madison watched from the ramparts as the boats began to shrink into the distance, drawing closer and closer to Spectacle Island with every passing second. X6 joined her quietly, watching in silence for a minute before speaking up.

“It would be best if we left now, ma’am.”

“Of course, X,” she answered, not taking her eyes from the boats. “Is everything ready?”

“Of course, ma’am. The relay is prepared for four. The other Coursers have been instructed to stand down. We are all set.”

“Excellent,” she finally peeled her eyes away from the ocean, fixing the Courser with an intense, dark stare. “And your orders are clear?”

“Yes, ma’am. Protect our friends at all costs.”

“ _All_ costs, X. Is that understood?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She headed for the stairs, the Courser following in tow.

“By the way, have our people located Justin Ayo yet? I’d hate for him to try anything unadvisable now that he’s been given the boot.”

“We have, ma’am. We’re keeping an eye on him.”

“Good. But there’s no need. I’ll be dismembering the man myself before the weeks out.”

“Very well, ma’am.”

“Or… how about this, X: we bring him in and transfer him into a Gen 2. Then we send him to the SRB. Let him live that pain, the pain he so willingly inflicted on others for years, before we finally put him out of his misery.”

“I’d advise against such a plan, ma’am.”

“Of course you would. We’ll discuss this later.”

“If you say so, ma’am.”

They descended into the Castle interior, not having to walk far before being intercepted by Nick Valentine and MacCready, both anxious to get their trip to the Institute underway. Madison didn’t say a word, but rather walked out to the courtyard, knowing they would follow. Once they were all out in the open, she turned to them.

“Ready?”

“Are you?” Valentine countered, aware of the dangerous calm in her, aware of the instability it hinted to.

“Yeah.” She responded, eyes dropping suddenly, nodding to X6.

“Ready to relay with the Director and two guests of the Institute.”

Madison waited tensely, knuckles white at how tightly her hands were clenched. The light came, blinding, a shiver jolting from her spine to her fingertips in an instant, then something sharp, sudden, like pain, too quick to react to, the sound flooding her ears as the light faded, her body left with a tingling numbness, breath returning to her lungs in a swift rush. Her eyes focused, blinking to see the familiar sight of the relay room, wasting no time walking off the platform and towards the elevator, stopping only as she recalled her friends. She looked back at Valentine and MacCready, in shock on the relay platform, X6 passing by her and heading for the elevator at an approving nod from his Director.

“Earth to Valentine, MacCready. Do you read me?” A half smile flashed onto her face at the tease.

“Holy shi-…. What the f-… the he-…. What just happened?” MacCready kept grabbing his limbs and checking his pulse, not completely sure he was all there as he stumbled, knees weak, off of the platform.

Madison was immediately there for him, putting an arm around his middle to keep him upright, unable to help but laugh. “Yeah, it’s a little overwhelming the first time.”

She helped him over to the computers, propping him against them as she went back for Valentine, who hadn’t budged from where he had reappeared. She looked at him, concerned, waving a hand in his face as she whistled—well, tried to whistle, as she never really could.

“Still can’t whistle, I see,” he smiled suddenly.

She stuck her tongue out at him crudely. “Still an ass, I see.”

She took a hold of his hand, lacing her fingers in his metal ones and leading him off the platform. Valentine went willingly, but admittedly dragged his feet just a little to prolong the time her hand was touching his. All too soon, she let go.

“Come on you two. We can’t waste the day waiting for you to stop freaking out over the relay. We’ve got an Institute to infiltrate.”

She headed down the hall, Valentine and MacCready following at a much more hesitant pace. She punched the elevator call button, watching as the glass cylinder ascended to their level, the door sliding open. She walked into the elevator like she had a hundred times, turning to her friends and beckoning them aboard. The moment their feet left the solid hallway and stepped onto the glass floor of the elevator, the door whooshed shut and the elevator began its decent into the ground, passing ring of lights evenly spaced.

“Boys…” Madison said, taking a moment to compose herself, remember her place, remember her responsibilities, remember the burdens crushing, suffocating, depending on her… “Welcome to the Institute.”

Suddenly, the elevator was no longer descending through the ground, through the dark, and instead emerged into a huge, brightly lit room, everything perfectly white, real trees growing and gracing the space with their green color, water running under glass floors and flowing under the glass stairs, the elevator shaft the center of it all. Both Valentine and MacCready took it all in with a mix of awe and fear. This was _the_ Institute, no longer a menacing whispered name but a tangible, real organization. There were people, walking below them, all wearing white jumpers with small amounts of color, both humans, Coursers, all generations of synths. Heads turned towards them, faces turned confused, panicked, angry. Valentine looked to Madison, feeling his stomach drop at the sight of her. Arms tucked behind her back, standing straight, face dark and emotionless, eyes darting over her kingdom. She caught him staring, blinking herself back to a more relaxed appearance.

“Stick close to me, the both of you. We won’t be staying long.”

The elevator came to rest on the main floor, the doors sliding open. Madison wasted no time stepping out, Valentine and MacCready at her heels, and her people wasted no time in confronting her.

“Director, who are these outsiders?!”

“Back to your duties, Doctor Higgs.” Madison fixed all the people loitering around expectantly with a sharp glare. “That goes for all of you!”

“Director, I’m afraid we simply can’t allow this,” came Madison Li’s voice as she made her way through the dumbfounded people to face the Sole Survivor.

Madison stared the stubborn woman down, spotting Allie Filmore standing to the side, barking at her.

“Doctor Filmore, assemble the Directorate."

“Yes, Director,” she answered reluctantly.

Slowly, Madison Li backed off and headed with the other acting directors to the conference room. As they leaders left, the people that had gathered dispersed as well, returning to their duties. Valentine could read the stress all over Madison’s tense posture, not sure what to think. Could this woman—barking orders, standing her ground, defying protocol—be the same one who would drop everything at the sound of her dog’s whimper, who would stay up all night doing the next day’s chores so that her friends could have a day off, who giggled as she ran around barefooted in the rain? He put a hand on her shoulder, which was bunched up close to her neck as the stress made her stomach do flips. She looked at him, face furiously stormy but eyes shimmering with the threat of fearful tears.

“You alright there?” Valentine asked gently.

“Yeah,” she said very quietly. “Just come on…”

She headed up one of the short staircases, strides rushed and deliberate, head held high in spite of everything. Valentine and MacCready followed, staying to either of her sides.

“What’s the plan, cutie?” MacCready asked in a gently teasing tone that he hoped would put her at ease, slipping his hand into hers and giving it a comforting squeeze.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about fuzzball,” she replied, a shy smile coming to her face. “The plan hasn’t changed.”

“But-… those people, they won’t let us be here…”

She laughed deviously. “Well yeah, that’s why I gathered them all into one room and locked the door.”

“You _what_?” Valentine said, shocked.

“Well, _I_ didn’t lock the door, she smiled. “X took care of that for me.”

“So this-…” Valentine suddenly began to grin as it all dawned on him. “This was your plan all along, wasn’t it? Why you little minx!”

She laughed, not caring as it echoed off the tall walls of the dormitories. “You bet it was! Went perfectly, I’d say. Well, until they bust out…”

“What?” MacCready gulped just a little.

“Well, the Coursers are _supposed_ to stand down—my orders—but once they catch wind of this little mutiny, they’re sure to spring the Directorate and come after me with full force.”

“So what are you gonna do?” MacCready said in a voice raising with panic.

She shrugged. “Well I was _hoping_ we’d be long gone by then! So chop chop you two! I’ve seen snails that move faster than you in the depths of winter!”

They got to the doors of Advanced Systems, which threw themselves open in front of them, Madison’s pace not slowing for a second. She walked into the lab with her friends in tow, startling the scientists that hadn’t heard the news.

“Director-…??”

“Rosalind, you’re looking very beautiful today. Did Brendan finally ask you out?”

The poor girl stuttered wildly as Madison quickly walked past. She turned down a hall to where a tiny little room with a bed and table was walled off with glass, a boy sitting inside, dismantling an alarm clock.

“Hey kiddo!” Madison smiled.

The boy looked up, face brightening briefly, then turning quite confused as he eyed MacCready and Valentine.

“Mom! Wh-who are these people? I don’t recognize them…” He asked timidly as she walked out of his room.

“Yeah, well, they’re not from the Institute.”

“You’re from the surface?” The boy’s raspy voice cracked with excitement, all fear instantly replaced with curiosity. “What’s it like up there? How many things have you killed? How do you know my Mom? I bet she saved you from some giant monster like a Deathclaw, didn’t she?”

“Something like that, kid,” Valentine smiled.

“Wow, would you look at that! Are you a synth, like the soldiers? The soldiers don’t talk to me, but at least they’re not mean like Mr. Filmore. Oh, I know! You must be Mr. Valentine, the detective! Mom tells me stories about you!” He looked at MacCready. “And who are you? Are you Mr. MacCready? Mom talks about you _all_ the time, about holding hands and kissing and tons of gross things!”

“That’s quite enough Shaun!” Madison said suddenly in an embarrassed stutter. “Look, gather your things. I’m taking you home with me.”

“Home?” His freckled face lit up again, green eyes shining. “To the surface? Do you mean it Mom??”

“Yes, of course! I can’t stand when I’m away from you Shaun. I want to be with you. Always.”

The boy tackled her in a hug, which she returned tightly. “Now hurry. There isn’t much time.”

Madison watched as he grabbed the pieces of the alarm clock, a soft smile appearing on her face. Valentine caught it, and all his doubt about the situation with her and the synth boy thinking he’s her son melted away. Shaun came back with the alarm clock in pieces, cradled in his arms, still smiling.

“So what now?”

“So now we take you home, kid,” MacCready smiled, giving his perfectly combed hair an affectionate ruffle.

“Well actually, that’s the surprise, MacCready,” Madison said. “We’re not going home.”

“What?” He frowned at her. “But you told the others we were meeting them at Spectacle Island. After a visit to Sanctuary, that is. Is that where we’re going?”

“Actually I was thinking we’d pop by the Capital Wasteland. You know, maybe pick up Duncan, bring him with us, finally be a family. What do you say?”

MacCready’s frown turned into an expression of utter shock, happy tears coming to his eyes.

“If this is your idea of a joke, Mads, I swear-!!”

“No joke. I’ve had the scientists here working day in and day out to extend the range of the relay. They just got it to reach D.C. the other day. So I figured-…”

She was cut short as MacCready pulled her into a kiss.

He laughed, crying as he pulled away. “If you’re not the best thing that’s ever happened to me, I don’t know what is!”

The sight of him crying brought Madison to tears, which she quickly hid by hugging him tightly. “Shut up, you! If we don’t leave soon, no one’s going anywhere.”

“Right, then let’s get a move on!” Valentine chimed, having helped Shaun put all the alarm clock pieces into the pockets of his trench coat.

Madison walked back into the main room of the Advanced Systems lab. “Rosalind!”

“Y-Yes Director?”

“Do me a quick favor. Can you relay me and Shaun and my friends here to the Capitol Wasteland?”

“O-Okay… if you insist…”

“Oh, I do. And if could maybe do it quick…”

“Right away Director!”

Madison smiled, turning to her friends and her son, eyes gleaming with excitement at the adventure ahead of them. “Ready?”

“There she is!!” A Courser’s voice was heard from the doorway, causing Madison’s stomach to lurch in fear. Just as she expected to be seized by the strong, gloved hands, there was a flash of light and an extraordinary shiver out to her extremities. A sudden, too quick pain, a deafening rush of sound, and a tingling numbness as the light faded and her eyes adjusted once more. There was a moment of silence, stunned, not so sure if she was just dreaming.

“We’re here,” MacCready’s voice was heard, quiet at first, and then growing louder as he broke out laughing. “We did it! We’re here! Capital Wasteland!”

Madison smiled, looking to find Shaun at her side, rubbing his eyes, and Valentine looking around just an arm's length away. She looked back at MacCready, looked as he took in all the familiar sights, gathering his bearings.

“I’m coming Duncan…” he was heard, voice quiet. “We’re coming for ya, buddy…”


	8. Confessions in Capital Wasteland

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madison, along with MacCready, Valentine, and Shaun, travel through Capital Wasteland to reach Duncan, who's been staying with MacCready's old friend the Lone Wanderer, and Madison confesses something rather shocking to Nick Valentine

“We’re almost there,” MacCready called back to his friends for the millionth time. “Just a little further and we’ll reach Megaton.”

Madison heaved a sigh of exhaustion, struggling to continue on as she provided a piggy-back ride to Shaun, who had passed out a while back, exhausted. She watched MacCready as he scouted ahead, dashing up hills and scanning the distance for familiar landmarks and checking his compass.

“Here, let me taken him…” Valentine said quietly, bending down to let his friend shift her son onto his back instead. Valentine grunted a bit under the initial weight, but quickly adjusted to it.

“Thanks,” Madison panted, arching her back as she stretched.

They had been walking all day, from the moment they had been relayed in the morning until the sun went down allowing dusk settled over the barren landscape, and beyond. Poor synth Shaun was completely unaccustomed to all the exercise, but despite it all trudged on, uncomplaining, until the moment exhaustion overtook him. She looked at Valentine, who carried her son on his back now, noting no sign of tire in the synth detective.

“MacCready…” Madison called out weakly.

The man looked back, realizing just how tired everyone was, and despite his eagerness to be reunited with his son, knew they weren’t nearly as close to the final destination as he claimed them to be.

“Let’s rest here for the night,” he said, heading back over to where Madison had practically collapsed at the welcome words. “I’ll gather some wood for a fire. You two stay put and lie low…”

Madison nodded in agreement, watching as he disappeared into the Wastes in a matter of minutes. They sat there, with Shaun’s head resting in Madison’s lap as she stroked his hair gently, Valentine allowing himself a smoke, when the words just tumbled out of her mouth.

“Nick, I’m pregnant.”

“You’re _what?!_ ” He said, lighter halting on its path up to the cigarette clamped in his teeth.

“I have been… for a little while actually…” It was all coming out, her voice shaky and sheepish. “The vault suit made it rather obvious, so I switched to Kellogg’s jacket… it’s just a lot bigger on me, you know...?”

“But-… you’ve been drinking…”

“It’s all cut back…” she explained, desperately trying to make herself feel better. “I had X cut back all the alcohol with water or Nuka Cola…. There’s practically no alcohol left in all those bottles of liquor…”

No alcohol. The first thing through Valentine’s mind was the kissing that had occurred between them. He had stubbornly dismissed it all as her being intoxicated, not in her right mind… but now?

“I’m sure MacCready will be thrilled, Maddie.” He offered warmly.

“Yeah, that’s the thing…” The sound she made could have been a laugh, but it very well could have been a sob. “It’s not his.”

In the silence that followed, Valentine’s mind was absolutely racing with questions, some more appropriate than others, but only a single word made it out of his mouth. “What-…?”

Madison hesitated, checking to make sure MacCready was nowhere to be seen and that Shaun was still out cold, her voice tiny. “I found out about a month into our relationship, MacCready and mine’s. And I know from experience,” she glanced at Shaun; “that you start showing, get a little baby bump, about three months into a pregnancy—a little earlier, I’m told, after you’ve had a kid already. Only a month with MacCready, and I was already showing..? That’s how I knew it wasn’t his. It couldn’t be…”

“Well…” Valentine felt himself verbally tip-toeing through the conversation, embarrassed at how much he wanted to hear the kid was his, despite the impossibility. “Who had you been sleeping with before MacCready..?”

She made that sound again—might have been laughing, probably was sobbing. “I can’t even remember… Hancock? Deacon? Danse once, maybe twice when I got really drunk…? Magnolia a couple times too many, but I’m not worried there…”

“Well damn, doll,” Valentine couldn’t help but laugh a little. “But not me?”

Tension filled the air in an instant, and Valentine instantly regretted the words slipping loose. He knew he needed to apologize, cover it up, put it behind them, but he hesitated to do so. Why, he wondered; why wasn't an apology tumbling out of his mouth like an avalanche in the silence? Because a part of him, a tiny little voice in the back of his head, wanted more than _anything_ to hear her answer. Why not him?

“I didn’t-…” the words came out awkwardly, rushed, indignant, apologetic; she cut them short, furrowing her brow, biting at her lip, finally daring to look her friend in the eye. “I didn’t want to ruin it. What we had, Nick. As partners, best of friends. Every single time you teased, made some little side comment, all I ever wanted to do grab you by that damn coat and kiss you cross-eyed. But I was too terrified. Of it ruining what we had. Ruining _us_ …”

“Ah…” Valentine remarked quietly, lighting his cigarette and puffing on it.

“Nick, I-…” Her words were cut short when Shaun stirred, blinking awake.

“Hey Mom,” he smiled sleepily, starting to look around. “Where are we..?”

“Oh, just somewhere in the Wastes,” she remarked dismissively. “How you feeling..?”

“Fine,” he yawned, sitting up and stretching, noticing Valentine. “Hey Mr. Valentine. What are you doing…?”

“Smoking,” he answered evenly.

“Can I smoke too..?”

“I don’t think so, kiddo. It’s not healthy.”

Shaun frowned, baffled. “Then why do you do it, Mr. Valentine?”

“Because I’m a synth,” he shrugged. “I ain’t got real lungs, so smoking doesn’t kill them like it would with yours.”

“Oh,” Shaun said, voice trailing off into a thoughtful silence he broke not a minute later. “Then why smoke at all…?”

“Bad habit.”

“Oh…." Another silence. "I-I’m afraid I don’t understand, Mr. Valentine…”

“Well kid, it’s a long story,” Valentine gave the curious freckle-faced child a half a smile.

Shaun smiled encouragingly, green eyes shining. “I love stories, Mr. Valentine. And I don’t mind when their long. I find the better stories tend to be.”

Madison smiled as Shaun skootched closer to the detective, working the puppy eyes on the soft-hearted synth. “We’ve got time to kill, Nick. Might as well.”

“Well if your mother commands it, I’d be a fool not to listen,” Valentine grinned wryly, pausing a moment to take a drag on the cigarette before launching into the story.

And so Valentine recounted the story of how pre-war Nick Valentine, a cop, lost his fiancée to a crooked man, and in his grief, participated in a program to download his personality into a robot. Shaun gave his full attention as he listened, wide-eyed, to how Valentine remembers waking up in the garbage, a battered and discarded Gen 2 synth prototype. He told of how he saved a girl who turned out to be the daughter of the mayor of Diamond City, and was allowed to live there despite the peoples’ distrust and dislike for synths. He recounted how he began work as a mechanic, but the people came asking for his help so often that he instead opened the detective agency in Diamond City, and began work as a detective. He was just about to get to the part where he met Madison, when MacCready interrupted them, arms overflowing with wood.

“A little help...?” He asked sheepishly.

Madison began to get up, but Valentine was already on his feet, taking half the load into his arms. “Don’t bother yourself, doll. We’ve got this.”

The humor in his voice was clear, but Madison looked into the worried, serious eyes of the synth and knew he meant every word. Tired, she didn’t bother to argue, but in her mind she knew that if the detective kept up his fussiness over her, MacCready was bound to know something was up.

Fortunately, the night went by smoothly. They had a fire blazing after a short while, managed to cook up some passable mole rat steaks, and slept in shifts without any trouble or unwelcomed guests. Once the dawn came, they were back on the road, trekking silently. It was during a brief stop for lunch that Madison decided to say something, anything.

“So hun,” she smiled at MacCready who mirrored her angelic expression. “who exactly has my thanks for looking after Duncan for you?”

MacCready practically bust out laughing. “Oh my goodness, you have no idea…”

He wiped a more or less imaginary tear from his eye before elaborating. “This guy… so he’s from a Vault like you, but not like you, because his Vault was an actual one. With people that lived and stuff. Like that Vault 85 place you helped out. He lived there for his whole life—well, for the sake of argument, yeah—and when he turned nineteen, his dad up and left, and the authorities in the Vault thought him to be some sort of criminal mastermind because of his father’s disappearance. So he ran, left the Vault, went out looking for his dad. Well, in his travels around Capital Wasteland, he ended up at Little Lamplight, that underground society of kids I was mayor of for a short while. I was mayor when he came poking around. I almost shot him, poor guy. But he was cool enough, so we let him hang around, do some trading, so long as he didn’t overstay his welcome.

“I never saw him for the longest time. I hit sixteen, had to leave Little Lamplight, started doing some mercenary work. All you ever heard on the radio was about that guy—the Lone Wanderer, they called him, like the song—heard all about all his heroic deeds. I’ll be honest, it was sort of an inspiration. That kid was out risking life and limb, day in and day out, and still managed to help out the little guy. In fact, his biggest namesake was the fact that he managed to purify the waters of Capital Wasteland. No more radiation. But there’s not a lot of caps in being the hero for the little guy. When I met Lucy, decided to settle down with her, I was all but broke, and I needed the money to end my work with the mercenaries and turn to a simpler life. So I set out for Megaton one day, figuring I’d find the Lone Wanderer there. I did, and he remembered me, and I told him about Lucy. That guy…” MacCready shook his head in wonder. “I kid you not, he emptied out his pockets and gave me a small fortune, just like that. He wished me all the best, and told me if I ever needed anything he’d be in town.

“So when I needed a safe place for Duncan while I sought a cure for his sickness, he was the obvious person to turn to. Well, maybe not obvious… he tends to be the sort of guy that’s in one place for a month, and then one day just up and disappears, goes out in search of thrill and adventure, probably is never heard from again. But he was my only hope, and low and behold, he was right where I left him. I hardly explained myself when he just flat out agreed. ‘Whatever you need Creedster,’ he said, ‘I’m here for ya, little buddy.’ And if anyone could pull off a miracle like keeping my poor boy alive, it’s my buddy the Lone Wanderer.”

“And does this mysterious Lone Wanderer have a name?” Valentine asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Nicholas,” MacCready smiled. “Well, only Fawkes calls him that. I call him Nick. The girls call him Nickey. Well, the girls _and_ Butch. Tunnel Snakes rule!” He laughed, clearly nostalgic; it made Madison happy to see him nostalgic and not depressed.

“Nick huh?” Valentine smirked to himself. “I like him already.”

“Who’s Fawkes?” Madison asked casually, loving to hear MacCready so cheery.

“Oh goodness, you’ll never believe it,” he smiled ruefully. “If you think Strong is an anomaly, not killing us and looking for his milk or whatever, wait ‘til you meet Fawkes! The guys a philosopher. A super mutant philosopher! Smartest guy I’ve ever met. And the only thing keeping all of Nick’s limbs attached, I’m sure.”

“Super mutants _keeping_ limbs attached… that’s a new one,” Valentine chuckled.

“Oh they’re quite a pair, really. Nick’s always throwing himself at Fawkes like he could take him any day, and Fawkes just lets the guy bounce right off, rolls his eyes, quotes something Shakespearian…”

“Well _I’m_ excited to meet them, Mr. MacCready!” Shaun piped up, having been listening intently.

“I’m excited for you all to meet them, too, Shaun.” He smiled. “And looks like I won’t have to wait long. Behold! Megaton!”

Madison didn’t know what to expect, but Megaton certainly wasn’t what she had thought it to be. It was little more than airplane bunker walls slapped haphazardly into something of a circle, parts of a plane sticking out here and there, and a heap of civilization kept within. Personally, she wasn’t quite sure how such a small, walled-in space could be one of the busiest settlements in Capital Wasteland, but she was ready to be surprised, taking Shaun’s hand and checking to make sure Valentine was still along for the ride before following MacCready to the town, trying not to think about that look Valentine kept giving her, the kind that made her feel terribly guilty for not being completely honest all the time, the kind that made her put her a hand to her growing belly beneath her oversized leather jacket.

The moment they entered Megaton, Madison understood. The place was more cramped and space efficient than a beehive, with shacks and stores bumping shoulders and stacked on top of each other between layers of rickety stairs. And in the center of it all, a huge atom bomb, just waiting to explode. She stopped dead in her tracks at the sight; the deafening detonation flooded her ears, the blinding light burst behind her eyes, the panic grabbed her heart and refused to let go, her breath fled from her lungs. She was sure she was gone, until a hand on her shoulder anchored her, helped pull her back to reality.

“You alright there?” Valentine, eyes glowing with a comfort not found anywhere else, face creased with a concern and care that could melt any ice.

She tried to dismiss it all, say she was fine, but her voice was as absent as the air in her lungs, and she physically had to pull the oxygen in, force it back out, restart the automatic function that was breathing, her heart following suit and beginning to beat normally again.

“I’m alright,” she finally gasped, too late to be believable.

He was already leading her away, up some stairs that MacCready had taken, making sure she stayed focused on him. “It was the atom bomb, wasn’t it?”

She tried to answer, but her breath caught in her throat, felt stomach drop, and she settled for a nod instead. Valentine nodded back, managing to get her over to the door MacCready stood at, waiting anxiously, and sat her down on a bench. Sitting there, feeling solid, she let her eyes wander, let them find their way back to the bomb, and it all hit her again, this time worse.

“Hey, look at me pal,” Valentine said quietly, deliberately. “Let’s think about something else, okay?” He looked up, found MacCready having disappeared inside the house he had been waiting at. “So tell me… got any good baby names picked out?”

She looked at him, looked at the slight smile on his face, the kind he used when being sarcastic and funny, and she felt herself blush, feeling sinful to have that gaze all for herself.

“I-I don’t know… I’ve honestly been too worried about the fact that I have no clue _whose_ baby it is to think about what to call it…”

“You want to know whose baby it is?” Valentine said sternly. “It’s yours. No doubt there. And you know what else? That baby’s mine too. And MacCready’s. And Piper’s. And Preston’s. Cait’s. Curie’s. Codsworth’s. And… God forbid, and Hancock’s.”

A timid smile crept onto her face. “And Strong’s…?”

Valentine rolled his eyes in exasperation. “If that baby is Strong’s, I’d appreciate you telling me before the little green thing jumps out and terrorizes us all!”

She laughed, something relived and long overdue, a little misty-eyed with emotional tears. Valentine smiled, leaning in and resting his forehead to hers, noses touching.

“Everyone is gonna love that kid, no matter what. There’s absolutely no reason to be afraid.”

“Giving birth in the apocalypse?” She laughed again. “I think I have every reason to be afraid, Nick!”

“One step at a time, doll,” he grumbled. “You’ve gotta be more pregnant than this before we worry about bringing the little tyke into the world.”

“Easy for you to say,” she wrinkled her nose, blushing madly at having Valentine so close and personally.

“But I digress…. names..?”

She grinned. “What about Danse Junior?”

“Oh hell no!” Valentine pulled back to look her in the face, mortified at the suggestion.

She laughed. “Oh come on! We could even call him DJ!”

“How about _you_ can name the kid that when his first words end up being ‘Ad Victorium.’”

They both shared a laugh over the quip, then fell into thoughtful quiet.

“What about…” she hesitated, looking at the detective. “What about Nick..?”

“What? After the heroic Lone Wanderer?”

“No, after _you_ Nick…”

Valentine was silent, the weight of the topic finally hitting him. “Well gee… I‘ve never had anyone _named_ after me before… I’m not really the naming-things-after type, honestly…”

“I think you are,” Madison blushed. “If it weren’t for you, I know for sure I wouldn’t be alive anymore…”

Automatically, Valentine took her hand in his, rubbing it with his thumb comfortingly, deep in thought, distracted.

“How about…” he thought aloud. “How about we do Jackson instead?”

“Jackson?” Madison echoed, perplexed.

Valentine nodded. “My middle name. Can’t have two Nicks running around in our little family, but we don’t have a Jackson yet…”

“Jackson…” Madison mulled over the name, her mind already racing to use it in context; _Time for bed, Jackson. Give your Uncle Nick a hug, Jackson. Come on Jackson! Just don’t get hurt, Jackson. I love you Jackson._ “I like it…” She looked down at her hidden stomach. “Little Jackie Jack… Jackie works for either a boy or a girl, too…”

Valentine smiled. “Already with the nicknames, eh doll?”

“Nicholas Jackson Valentine!!” She snapped, acting stern before the façade melted away to a delighted grin. “I’m gonna start yelling at you like that.”

“You better not, or I’ll start calling you Madison Avenue.”

She blanched. “Okay okay! Let’s not get carried away! We’re all friends here!”

MacCready poked his head back out the door. “You two gonna sit out here all day or are you gonna come inside?”

“Coming fuzzball,” Madison smiled, in a better mood than she had been for days, turning to Valentine as MacCready went back inside. “Come on, you,” she smiled at Valentine, toying a brief second with his tie, distracted. “Let’s not keep this Lone Wanderer waiting.”

They entered the house, finding it to be surprisingly open and space efficient for being such a small place. The main room was open up to the second floor ceiling, making the place feel a lot bigger than it was, the second floor consisting only of a narrow walkway around following the walls. Madison smiled as they were immediately met at the door by a Mr. Handy not unlike her Codsworth.

“Hello mum!” he chimed. “My name is Wadsworth. My master Nicholas is just in the back room with Mr. Robert MacCready, young master Shaun, and Mr. Fawkes. ”

“Why thank you, Wadsworth. You are extremely helpful!”

If a robot could blush, Wadsworth would have been. “You are too kind, mum!”

The Sole Survivor and Valentine made their way to the back room, admiring the impressive bobblehead display on their way. There, MacCready was all smiles, chatting away with a young man a good head and shoulders taller, well-built but still lanky, blonde hair wavy and unkempt on top his head, smile dazzling and laugh rich and yet shamelessly giggly. He turned as Madison and Valentine walked in, his smile getting bigger, deep blue eyes friendly and honest, matching the road-worn Vault suit beneath his armor.

“Howdy,” he grinned. “You must be the lovely woman who helped my buddy Creedster get Duncan’s meds. I’m Nick. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Pleasure’s all mine,” Madison smiled, taking his offered hand and exchanging a firm handshake, both of them instantly respecting the other’s strength.

The two of them looked over as someone cleared their throat, and Madison noticed with a little panic the super mutant in the corner, her initial panic turning to overwhelming curiosity as she noticed the make-shift tuxedo the mutant was wearing, and the glasses dwarfed on his large face.

“Oh right, right,” Nick waved a hand dismissively. “That’s Fawkes. Philosopher, brawler, and my best friend.”

“It’s nice to make your acquaintance,” Fawkes said quietly, sounding incredibly normal and civil for a super mutant, turning back to his reading.

“These two are literal _legends_ in the Wastes,” MacCready was babbling a mile a minute. “They said they got the medicine we gave to Daisy, and that Duncan has fully recovered. Running around, playing baseball, target practice…”

“Wait a second, you know how to play baseball?” Valentine looked to the Lone Wanderer. “It’s a miracle. Mind coming back to the Commonwealth with us, teach a friend who has the rules terribly wrong?”

Nick laughed. “I’ve been to the Commonwealth. The Brotherhood needed some help there a while back. But we had a bit of falling out over a few minor details. I’m not exactly welcome back.”

Before anyone could say anything more, a sound of footsteps on the creaking stairs caused a hush to come over everyone. MacCready was the first to react, leaving the back room for the main one, finding himself rooted to the spot at the sight of his son, Duncan: five years old, sandy brown hair unkempt and exhibiting a bad case of bedhead, rubbing at his sleepy brown eyes. He blinked several times, frowning as he stared at MacCready, the wheels in his head turning slowly on account of having just woken up.

“Papa…?”

MacCready smiled weakly. “Hey Duncan.”

Shocked, the little boy barreled down the rest of the stairs and into his father’s arms, hugging him as tight as his little arms could, beginning to cry uncontrollably. Madison stood in the doorway to the back room, watching the reunion with emotional tears slipping out of her eyes. Shaun came up behind her, taking her hand as he peaked around her.

“Is that him? Mr. MacCready’s son?” He whispered.

“Yeah,” Madison answered quietly. “That’s him.”

MacCready turned, his arms still around Duncan as he smiled at Madison and Shaun.

“Hey Duncan, there’s some people I’d like you to meet…” MacCready spoke quietly, smiling reassuringly at his son as the boy pried his face from his father's shirt.

“Alright Papa,” he said resolutely, wiping at his eyes and pulling away.

“Duncan, this is Ms. Madison, and her son Shaun. Madison helped me get the cure for the sickness that you had.”

“Hi there Duncan,” Madison smiled softly.

Duncan broke into a smile, running over and hugging her, much to her surprise. “Thanks for saving me, Ms. Madison.”

He pulled away, eyeing up the shy synth boy that towered over him. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Shaun offered meekly.

“Do you like snack cakes?”

“Yeah, I love ‘em.”

Duncan smiled, taking Shaun by the hand and leading him upstairs. “Come on. I’ve got some in my room. We’ll share.”

“O-Okay,” Shaun smiled a little, going willingly.

Madison watched the boys disappear upstairs, blushing as MacCready surprised her with a kiss

“Honestly Mads,” he smile and nuzzled her hair as he drew her in close. “I owe you, for everything. First you save my kid, then you bring me back to him…” He kissed her again, long and sweet.

“MacCready…?”

“Yes sweetie..?”

“You know I love you, right…?”

“Of course,” he laughed from his nose, kissing the top of her head. “Why do you ask, huh?”

“Because I’m pregnant…” she gulped. “And… I-I don't think it's yours…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any guesses on who the father is for the baby? Comment down below! :)


	9. This Damsel is Distressed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang returns to the Commonwealth on less than ideal terms with one another. Madison has to return to the Institute when X6-88 isn't waiting for them where they agreed to meet.

The ten day trek home was one that was awfully silent and tense. Not a word was exchanged between Madison and MacCready, and Valentine felt physically pained by the looks on their faces: Madison looked crushed, like she did when her son died and left her with the guilt of his orders, but worse, because this time the person she let down had loved her, and the guilt was all her own doing; MacCready looked like someone had taken a sledgehammer to his happiness, given him some terrible ultimatum with which he couldn’t live with either option. But there was nothing Valentine could do, aside from distract the two young boys from their parents.

Around halfway home to the Commonwealth, Madison finally tried talking to MacCready, but nothing came from it. The moment she opened her mouth, said his name, he found some excuse to leave: firewood, rations, check for danger, use the bathroom; you name it, he used it. Then, once Shaun and Duncan were asleep, Madison would just break down and cry. And Valentine was there in an instant, arms around her, not caring as she soaked his shirt in tears, trying to focus his energy on comforting her instead of lashing out at MacCready, despite the overwhelming desire to do so. The guy needed some sense knocked into him, but stuck out in the middle of the Wastes, five more days of travel ahead of them, wasn’t the right time to do it.

One night, just a couple days left in their journey, Valentine sat on guard, watching over his friends as they slept, not needing to sleep himself. He was smoking through a pack of cigarettes, trying unsuccessfully to take his mind off his dearest friend and her lover’s quarrel. He snorted to himself, remembering how he used to dream of the two of them having a falling out. And now, with the possibility very real, he wanted to do everything he could to keep it from happening. In a way, he enjoyed being able to be more openly loving with the Sole Survivor, but he wanted what was best for her, and what she needed was MacCready, and her son, and a family into which her baby could be born. For now, at least, Valentine recognized he needed to refrain from the romantic endeavors and help with keeping Madison and MacCready together before he was gathering up the pieces of both their broken hearts.

“Mr. Valentine?” A voice called softly from behind. “Can I join you..?”

Valentine turned to see Shaun standing there, looking wide awake despite having been laying asleep for hours—well, supposedly asleep.

“Make yourself comfy, kiddo,” he patted beside him, putting out his cigarette as Shaun sat beside him, knees drawn up to his chest.

There was a silence between the two of them, as there often was when the shy boy had a question.

“Mr. Valentine..?”

“Yeah Shaun?”

“My mom and dad are fighting, aren’t they?”

Valentine sighed. Both Shaun and Duncan had already picked up calling each other’s parents by the more endearing terms of mom and dad, or in Duncan’s case mama and papa. It was an easy transition, seeing as though Shaun had never known his father, and Duncan hardly had any memories of his real mother.

Valentine put an arm around Shaun’s shoulders. “How much do you know?”

Shaun looked at his feet, hands fiddling with one another nervously. “My mom said something about being pregnant, which she said means she’s going to have a baby, and I’m going to have a brother or sister. She wasn’t talking about it before when she and Dad were happy, but now that she talks about it, they don’t talk to each other…”

“You’re not wrong, pal,” Valentine sighed. “You see, the thing is, babies take two people to make: a mom and a dad. And since your mother and Mr. MacCready love each other, you’d think the baby would have been made by the two of them. But the baby was made before they fell in love, when your mother thought she loved a lot of different people. Shaun, when a baby’s first made, it’s really really tiny. You don’t even know it’s there, until some time goes by and the baby gets bigger. So your mother, she had no idea she was pregnant, not until recently. Or she would have said something sooner to Mr. MacCready.”

“Oh…” Shaun said quietly, processing all the information bit by bit, taking his time to make sure he got it all right. “So that baby is hers… but also someone else’s? And that someone is the baby’s dad. But it can’t be MacCready, because the baby is older than the time they’ve been in love?”

“Exactly Shaun,” Valentine ruffled his hair affectionately. “You’re really smart, you know that?”

Shaun smiled at the detective. “Thanks Mr. Valentine.”

“You can call me Uncle Nick, pal.” He smiled. “I think we’re close enough to be on a first-name basis.”

“Okay…” Another bought of silence. “Hey Uncle Nick?”

“Yeah Shaun..?”

“Are you the baby’s dad? I mean… _can_ you be?”

“No, it’s not me,” Valentine sighed. “Your mother doesn’t love me in the way it takes to make a baby.”

“Really?” Shaun looked at him, even in the dark his green eyes seemed to shine. “Because Mom would always talk about you, when she would visit me in the Institute.”

“That’s because her and me, we’re the best of pals. But that’s a different kind of love.”

“I don’t know, Uncle Nick,” Shaun smirked. “She talked about wanting to kiss you. But she also called you a rusty toaster. So maybe she was just talkin’ crazy.”

Valentine chuckled, giving the boy’s shoulders a squeeze. “Yeah, maybe.”

“It’s too bad...” Shaun sighed, yawning as he leaned against the detective, eyelids beginning to grow rather heavy. “You would’ve made a great dad for my brother or sister…”

Valentine looked at the synth boy, who quickly drifted to sleep using the detective as a pillow. He sighed, the boy’s words weighing on his chest like a weight he couldn’t move.

“Don’t think I don’t know, pal…”

By the time that made it back to the Commonwealth, very little had changed between Madison and MacCready, except for how skillfully they put on a façade for their kids, looking perfectly happy and problem-free when their kids were looking, and dropping the act the moment they were alone. Valentine was more worried than he had been, as Madison had begun to wake up around 4 AM every night to puke, and wasn’t able to fall back asleep, turning the normal fifteen-hour travel day into seventeen-hour one. The detective was visibly relieved as they made it back to the Commonwealth, looking forward to having the Sole Survivor on a more relaxing schedule as her pregnancy progressed relentlessly. But everything quickly went south the moment they arrived at The Lonely Chapel. They entered the old building, Madison looking around expectantly, and immediately going into a panic.

“He’s supposed to be here!” She hyperventilated.

“Who?” Valentine asked, heading over to her to provide some comfort and calm.

“X!” She practically screamed, already dialing up the Institute relay on her Pip-Boy. “Nick, get everyone home!”

“Hold on-..!”

“Nick, _please_!” And in a blinding flash of light, she was gone, and Valentine was left with his worry and his responsibility.

Her feet had barely reappeared on the solid ground of the Institute’s main floor when Madison was running full speed for the Synth Retention Bureau. She didn’t hear what the people she passed had to say, she didn’t even hear if the Gen 2 at the door gave her clearance. She bursts in, gun immediately in her hand, eyes blazing with an instability that could have scared anyone.

“Stop it!!” She screamed, getting the attention of all the scientists in the SRB. “Stop it _right now!!_ Or I _swear-..!!_ ”

No one moved, and her gun pointed at Alana Secord, head of the SRB. “ _Now_ goddammit!!!”

That was the last straw. Every last person working scrambled to shut down the operation as fast as they possibly could. Only incrementally satisfied, Madison ran down the stairs to the room where the reprogramming took place, finding exactly what she expected: X6-88, strapped into the horrible machine that was about to reset him to factory standards. She didn’t think, she just shot. Shot until the fusion cell was drained, each blast going into the machinery, frying the circuits, scrambling the interface, melting the wires. The gun was put back on safety and tucked into the waistband of her cargo pants as she reached X6, shaking as she waiting for some sort of response.

“X?” She asked, voice trembling, helping him out of the inhumane contraption, feeling ready to throw up as the ten-inch-long needles withdrew from inside his spine. Finally free from the impaling needles, all of X6’s weight was on Madison, her knees buckling underneath it all, struggling to drag him far from the machine, propping him up against the wall as he started to groan.

“X..? Come on, buddy, talk to me here!” Her voice was saturated with panic despite her calm choice of words. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed some of the scientists coming down, and she had them at gunpoint in an instant. “Get back!! Return to your duties, or so help me-…!!”

The scientists were deterred, but Madison knew it was only a matter of time before they sent Coursers. Her head snapped back to X6 as he began to stir again, groaning quietly and then freezing and going silent as the pain finally hit him.

“X…? Come on…”

“Is-….Is that you ma’am..?” His vice was very strained, but it sounded human, not like how he used to sound with his monotone delivery.

Madison began to cry in relief, taking the sunglasses off his face before cupping it in both hands, trying to rouse him more fully, face dark with concern. “You okay..?”

“I-…” he was cut short as he tried to move, stiffening in pain. “It’s nothing, ma’am. Just give me a minute…”

“We don’t have a minute, X…” she muttered as the sound of boots echoed from the SRB control room. “Here,” she shoved all the stimpacks she had into his lap, along with as many fusion cells she could manage. “Whatever you do, don’t let them know you’re still you. Be a proper Courser, X. Do that for me, and everything will turn out just fine…”

There wasn’t time for the Courser to protest, as Madison was quickly and roughly hauled to her feet by X6's fellow Coursers and led away from the SRB, head held high as she went willingly, not allowing anyone see their leader manic and weak; at least, not anyone more.

Head still held high, she was sat down in her chair at the front of the Directorate meeting room, the heads of the different divisions having all gathered, their faces stern, many straight up angry.

“Hello,” Madison said calmly as the Coursers left the room to guard the door, her voice full of command, reminding them all who was in charge. “Shall we begin?”

“I’m going to be frank here,” Clayton Holdren piped up. “You’re not fit to be our leader.”

With the words out in the open, a tense silence filled the room, everyone expecting something rash from their young and not-exactly-loyal Director. But instead, Madison sat in a pensive silence, hands pressing together and her fingertips resting on her lips in a thoughtful pose.

“Thank you, Doctor Holdren,” she said, eerily calm. “I’m glad we can all be honest with each other. I can guess as to your reasons for thinking thusly, but please: enlighten me.”

“Threatening your own scientists,” Alana Secord snapped.

“Interfering with standard protocol,” Allie Filmore sighed reluctantly.

“Oh, and not to mention locking your Directorate away so that you could let your little Commonwealth friends tour our facilities,” Madison Li practically hissed.

“Fair enough,” Madison nodded, still maintaining her calm. “But let’s not forget: did Father not allow me, an outsider, into the Institute to do much more than just tour? Did Father not interfere with standard protocol in allowing me to preform critical missions for the betterment of the Institute? Did Father not issue his own passive-aggressive threats if things did not occur according to his timetable?”

The silence that fell heavily over the room was answer enough. Madison continued, not letting her smirk break her calm, impartial exterior.

“And has the Institute not made huge leaps and bounds in bettering not only the lives here, but all of humanity, in the time that I have been its Director? Our relay reaches farther. Our crops are more bountiful. And all your little pet projects have been more than supported thanks to the personal errands I have selflessly run for the lot of you, when I could have very well left you to your own devices and set your timetables back years. Sure, these past few months have been shaky. Change is never easy. But I am simply carrying out Father’s orders: preserving humanity. Humanity is not only us, here, at the Institute, but the people on the surface, _all_ the people. And the synths we create, too.”

The silence continued, crushing and thoughtful. In it, Madison let herself sigh quietly in relief, standing. “If there are no further matters to discuss…” She looked over the faces of down-cast eyes. “Right. Meeting adjourned.”

Madison strolled out of the room, passing the Coursers that had brought her in, nodding to them.

“Be on your way, gentlemen.”

“Yes, Director.”

“Damn right,” she muttered, heading to see if X6 was still in SRB, ignoring the fearful stares from the scientists there.

He wasn’t where she left him. Not sure whether to be relived or worried, she walked back up to the control room and caught the attention of the first scientist she spotted.

“You there,” she said, calm as always. “Send a Courser to my chambers for debriefing. Designation X6-88. Thank you.”

“Yes Director...”

Madison hurried to Father’s room, pacing madly in the open space, trying not to stare at any of the furniture for too long; the couch he sat on, the radio he asked her to use, the bed that he breathed his last breath in…

“You called for me, ma’am?”

“X!” She laughed in relief, tackling him in a hug.

Behind the reflective sunglasses, the Courser checked to make sure no one was watching, then allowed himself the guilty pleasure of a smile, returning the hug. Madison laughed more, shaking from the pent up fear that she had lost her friend to the Institute’s brainwashing. In the spur of the moment, she tried to lift the Courser off his feet, finding it far too impossible to accomplish. But not the other way around. X6 lifted her off her feet effortlessly, causing a squeak of surprise to escape his Director. He laughed quietly, spinning her around to hear that high-pitched sound of surprise once more before setting her down.

“You’re awful, X!” she growled, blushing furiously as she slugged a fist into his shoulder playfully.

“So you tell me, ma’am,” he grinned. “How’s our baby?”

Madison shook her head, walking to the window overlooking the Institute. “You can’t keep doing that, X!”

“Doing what, ma’am..?” He asked honestly, following her to the window.

“Calling it ‘our’ baby. People are going to think you’re the dad.”

“But the baby _is_ ours, ma’am. Yours, the Institute’s…”

“Just-…” she sighed. “The baby’s fine, I think. And I told Valentine.”

“I’m sure the unit—I mean, the detective—was fine with the news?”

“He was,” Madison pinched the bridge of her nose. “But I told MacCready, too…”

“Shall I use force to initiate his acceptance, ma’am?” X6 offered without missing a beat.

“Not necessary, X, but thank you for the offer…” She sighed again, plopping herself down on an ottoman at the foot of one of two armchairs by the window.

X6 sat down in the arm chair behind her, taking her tense shoulders into his hands and massaging the stress from her muscles, feeling his Director melt beneath his soothing touch.

“I’m glad I have you around, X…” she mumbled. “I don’t know if I could have gotten this far without your support, you know? With being in charge of the Institute, _and_ with the pregnancy…”

“If I may make a suggestion, ma’am…” He waited for her encouraging nod before continuing. “It would be best for your health, as well as the baby’s, if you were to stick around the Institute for a little while. Doctor Volkert could make sure the baby is following the proper timetable, provide any medicine you meet need…”

Madison wanted to reject the idea immediately, wanting more than anything to be back with her friends and her family, but she bit her tongue, forcing herself to consider the Courser’s proposition. It _was_ her biggest fear with the pregnancy, the lack of modern medicine in the Commonwealth. She was used to doctors and hospitals and midwives and epidurals and an entire staff of emergency room doctors should something go wrong. The Institute was the closest thing to that luxury that she would find in this apocalyptic future.

“Alright X…” she said, still sounding reluctant, moaning a little as his kept working to release the tension in her shoulders. “I’ll stay. But just for a little while… just to check up on the baby…”

“You’re making the right choice, ma’am,” the Courser reassured in a voice that was close to a relived sigh. “For you, and for our baby.”

Madison leaned back into X6’s chest, coming down off her adrenaline high that she had used to save the Courser’s life and feeling drained in the powerful chemical's absence, her eyes fluttering shut as she succumbed to the growing exhaustion, drawing comfort from the strong arms that wrapped around her middle, cold hands resting on her baby bump. “I hope you’re right, X…”

The Courser watched stoically as his Director drifted to sleep in his arms, amazed at how much bigger the baby had grown in the short few weeks she had been away.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered soothingly. “I’ll keep you safe, little one…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any new guesses as to the baby daddy, or any other theories? Go on! Comment down below! :)


	10. Home is Where the Misfits Are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a month staying at the Institute, Madison returns home to Spectacle Island and has to face all her companions.

It was an entire month before Madison was seen again at Spectacle Island. Nick Valentine was bombarded nearly daily with questions as to why the Sole Survivor had disappeared, if she was okay, if she was coming back, if anything had happened to her. It didn’t matter that the detective’s answer was always a somber, anxious ‘I don’t know’; the concerns kept coming. He didn’t dare mention the fact that she was pregnant, knowing it would only heighten the worry everyone had ten-fold. But as the days slowly ticked by, turning to weeks, Valentine wondered with a heavy heart if they would ever see their friend again.

It was still a good two hours before dawn, but Valentine was awake. He never slept anymore; he didn’t ever need to, anyways. Instead, he sat at the bar in the old house, staring out the window to the rest of the island, gently sloping up away from the house, sandy beaches stretching the perimeter before dissolving into the salty ocean that protected everyone present from the dangers of the Commonwealth. He stared, hoping that he may spot a lonely figure coming over the hill, or rowing onto the beach, or appearing out of thin air. Every night spurred a new-found hope that it would finally be the night she would return. And at the end of each night, after a handful of cigarette packets had been anxiously smoked through, when the sun would cast a rosy or peachy glow over the entire island, Valentine would heave a heavy sigh, and go about his day like his hopes weren’t crushed beyond recognition.

But this night, as he sat, waiting, hoping, sitting a haze of his own cigarette smoke, he was suddenly blinded by a flash of blue light. Recognizing the molecular relay, he quickly blinked, trying to re-adjust his eyes to the dark, spotting two figures coming down the hill. And before he knew it, he was out the door, running to meet them.

Madison was exhausted, both physically and mentally, having spent a month with no contact with anyone outside of the Institute besides X6, unable to escape the crushing responsibility of being Director. As much as she knew it was best for her physical health to stay in the sterile, technologically-advanced confines of the Institute for the rest of her pregnancy, for the sake of her mental health she just _had_ to return to her friends, to her son, and to the people she trusted to love and care for her unborn child as their own. And at the sight of the synth detective loping across the island to meet her, a smile broke on her tired face, knowing once and for all that she had made the right choice.

“Nick!” She called in something of relived sob, meeting her friend with open arms.

They embraced, tightly, tenderly, neither of them wanting to let the other go.

“Hey doll…” He finally said, tone more endearing than teasing.

It had been a month since she had been with him, and she realized just how entirely she had missed him. She felt right, in his arms, complete; the smell of his cigarettes, the muskiness of his century old clothes, the slight hint of something akin to the burning engine of an old car, mingling with her own scent, being something distinctly motherly but a little boozy with an acrid burn of gunpowder and salty sweat lingering afterwards. Engulfed in his strong yet tender embrace, breathing him in, it felt completely right as she reached up on her tip-toes and kissed his lips, soft, gentle, lingering, her cheeks flushing as the detective kissed her back. She sighed happily through her nose, her arms wrapping themselves around his neck as the detective lifted her off her feet and carried her back to the house, her ankles locking behind his back, neither of them willing to break the kiss.

With a pent up sigh, X6 followed his Director and the synth detective back to the house, the majority of his mind screaming blasphemy at the sight of the two of them, but a smaller, more familiar part just watching, curious, stirring whispers of emotions to life in the emotionless Courser. He forced his eyes to look over at the water foaming to shore, having to manually unclench his jaw, trying to keep his heart from hurting strangely as it did, baffled as to why he felt a hollowness in the pit of his stomach. What was this? Sickness? Anger? Surely it couldn’t be love, the Courser scoffed. A synth couldn’t feel love. But as he looked back at Madison and Valentine, keyed in to the expressions on their faces, noted how they touched, how they reacted to the touch of the other, the symptoms washed right back over X6. He stopped dead in his tracks, eyes glued to the two of them, suddenly having something close to an existential crisis as a single thought popped up in his mind and suddenly dominated his universe: _our_ child…

By the time the sun was rising above the horizon, Madison and Nick Valentine lay tangled in each other’s arms on one of the couches in the side room, the both of them struggling to catch their breath, Madison drenched in sweat, spooning with the detective whose arms were the only thing keeping her from tumbling off the couch. Knowing that the sunrise meant those who were sleeping waking and coming downstairs, Madison forced herself to her feet, gathering her clothes from a heap on the floor. Valentine stayed on the couch, guiltily admiring the view as the Sole Survivor slipped back into her undergarments, finally pushing off the couch to join her in clothing himself. He pulled his boxers back on from around his ankles, slipping back into his pants as Madison frowned at her shirt, trying to fix the sleeves that had been rolled inside-out. Once again, Valentine paused to let his eyes take in every inch of her body, stopping as he reached the baby bump, realizing for the first time just how much bigger the baby had grown since he had last seen her.

“May I?” He asked, voice still a little husky from the rush of synthetic hormones.

Madison looked up at him, smiling as she realized what he meant. “Of course, Nicky.”

He placed his better hand to her stomach, trembling a little at the thought that not an inch from his hand was her baby, growing bigger, becoming more of a reality day by day. Madison smiled softly at the look of utter awe that was plastered on her friend’s face, taking his other, metal hand in her own.

“Jackie’s gonna be lucky to have you around Nick,” she told him gently.

Valentine looked at her. “I never asked… why did you want to name your baby after me?” He didn’t bother to try and talk himself down, knowing she would correct himself fiercely about how much he mattered.

“Because Nick, this baby, they’re not going to belong to old Nick Valentine. They’re going to belong to _you_ , the rusty synth detective who’s helped more people than there are in the Commonwealth. This baby is something of your own, Nick. Nothing can change that. Nothing can corrupt that. And I want you to know it.”

She reached up and gave him a kiss before backing away to pull her shirt over her head, frazzling her already unkempt hair in the process. The shirt could have been a cocktail dress it was so big and so long, and it still managed to hide the baby bump despite it having gotten bigger. But not for much longer, Valentine thought as he buttoned up his dress shirt and slipped his tie back on, watching her shrug into Kellogg’s armored leather jacket that swallowed her torso whole Before long, nothing would be able to hide the fact that she was pregnant.

“Sugar bombs, Nick?” Madison asked cheerily as she walked from the room, pulling her newsboy cap back into place on her head, the ratty old thing keeping her hair looking not nearly as wild as it did un-capped.

“Might as well,” the detective shrugged, knowing that if he didn’t eat them now, they’d be stuck with the blasted things for dinner too.

She pulled two chipped bowls from beneath the bar, pouring the cereal and fetching the Brahmin milk from their fridge. The two of them sat on the barstools, side by side, eating their cereal, the only sound in the peaceful morning their crunching and the clinking of spoons on bowls. Valentine couldn’t have asked for a better morning, eyes drifting every so often to the beautiful woman beside him, smiling to himself as his noted all the places on her neck that drove her nuts when he sucked at them, the spot on her jaw that when kissed coaxed the sweetest moan from her lips, the tip of her nose that he could smooch to produce the most delicate blush to her cheeks. He wanted their morning alone to last forever, even if it meant eating dozens of bowls of Sugar Bombs, but unfortunately for the detective, he wasn’t the only one who had missed Madison.

“Well look who it is,” the irresistibly raspy voice of just-woken-up Hancock chuckled.

“Miss me much Mr. Mayor?” Madison smiled as the man used her shoulder as a pillow, arms hanging over her shoulders.

He mumbled something incoherent, and was out cold once more within a minute. Rolling his eyes, Nick got up and hoisted the ghoul over his shoulder, taking him over to the couch in the side room and laying him down. Madison followed, grabbing an old blanket and draping it over their friend as his arms curled around a throw pillow, mouth hanging open as he began to snore just a little.

“He’s too cute,” Madison giggled, wrapping an arm around Valentine’s waist and drawing him in close. “Don’t you think so, Nicky?”

“Cute wasn’t the first thing I thought of,” he huffed. “It was more like a handful.”

“But a cute handful,” Madison grinned, knowing how much it irked Nick when she and Hancock would get all handsy and mushy with each other.

Nick grumbled something dark, but immediately perked back up when Madison planted a kiss on his cheek.

“Come on, old fellow,” she teased. “Let’s finish our curds and whey before the young folk start making a raucous.”

“You’re one hell of a comedian, you know that?” He replied sarcastically, prompting the Sole Survivor to stick out a tongue at him as she sat back down to eat her cereal.

The cereal-eating commenced again, but was interrupted not five minutes later when Curie come down the stairs, spotting Madison and making the most deafening of delighted shrieks.

“Madame!” She was immediately on top of the Sole Survivor, squeezing her to death in an overzealous hug. “I zhought you were gone for good! But no! Here you are! In one piece! And what’s zhis? Oh my! And pregnant, too!”

“Curie-..!” Madison stuttered out in shock.

“ZIs is wonderful news, madame! I shall wait with baited breath for zhe baby to be born!”

“Curie-…!!”

“Madame, would you mind if I studied zhe baby’s cognitive development? I would very much like to see how zhey progress!”

“ _Curie!!_ ”

Curie let go of Madison, smiling innocently, eyes sparkling with excitement. “Yes madame?”

Madison sighed, composing herself. “I haven’t really told anybody yet, Curie…”

“Oh I see!” Curie gasped, face growing quite earnest. “Zhen it is a secret! I shall not tell a single soul, madame!” She eyed Valentine a little nervously.

“I already told him, Curie,” Madison reassured. “It’s fine.”

“Thank goodness!” She sighed, cheery disposition returning to her in an instant. “Now, I am off to harvest some produce for our breakfast! Adieu, madame, monsieur Nick!”

And with that, she was out the door, headed to the small but space-efficient farm near the top of the hill.

“Now _that_ ,” Valentine turned to Madison. “ _That_ is cute.”

Madison laughed. “You and Curie, huh? Can’t say I haven’t thought about it.”

“Don’t get your hopes us,” Nick grumbled. “I’ve got my eyes on one woman, specifically.”

He grinned as the comment shut her right up and caused her cheeks to flush bright red. Finally, they managed to finish their cereal, though Madison just played around with what was left in her bowl, claiming it was too soggy to eat. She gathered up their bowls, stacking them one within the other, turning to stand and wash the dishes. But she stopped, frozen as she caught sight of who was standing at the bottom of the stairs, a look of utter shock plastered on their face.

“Oh…” Madison faltered, her emotions betrayed in the breaking of voice. “H-Hi MacCready… I, uh-…”

She was cut short as MacCready crossed the distance between them in the blink of an eye, his arms around her tightly and a sob escaping him.

“I’m so sorry,” he stuttered quickly, afraid she wouldn’t give him enough time to explain. “I love you, and I love that little baby in your tummy too, no matter what… I-… I-I’m so _so_ sorry..!!”

At a loss for words, Madison hugged him back, sniffling as tears welled up in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks, her voice trembling as she tried to sound stern. “Robert Joseph MacCready…!”

“I know I know…” He cut in sheepishly. “It’s not good enough. But how ‘bout this: a romantic evening on the beach, just you and me and some snacks. Cash it in any time, and I’ll drop whatever I’m doing, I promise!”

He heard Madison heave a sigh, knowing she was caving in to his apology, adding: “I love you sweetheart…”

“I love you too, fuzzball,” Madison laughed through her tears, pulling away from her grungy ex-mercenary. “Now… where are our boys? Where’s Shaun and Duncan..?”

As if on cue, the two boys came barreling down the stairs, toy rockets and robots in hand, their mouths providing the vivid if not crude sound effects. They spotted Madison waiting there with a smile on her face and forgot all about their game, going in for a month-overdue hug.

“Mom!”

“Mama!”

She put them both in headlocks, growling at them playfully about whether or not they had been bathing and eating properly as she held them captive, finally pulling them in close for a hug. All the commotion roused everyone else still sleeping upstairs, and one by one they all came down the stairs to find their friend the Sole Survivor, welcoming her back warmly. Piper was immediately fussing over Madison, asking if the Institute had kidnapped her, bombarding her with questions to make sure she wasn’t a synth replacement, and then finally giving in to a tight hug, smiling endlessly. Cait approached with arms prepped for a hug and delivered instead a resounding punch to Madison’s shoulder, a blow that was mild by Cait’s standards. She chewed Madison out about disappearing and not sending any sign that she was okay, but despite her harsh words, the blush on her face gave away the fact that she had been eaten alive with worry. Preston, while normally business-like with his general, took her in both arms for a bear hug, telling her with a soft smile that he was glad she was safe. All the laughing and rejoicing roused Strong from where he was sleeping in the garage beside the house, and as Madison came outside with friends in tow, he laughed.

“Human not dead! Strong knew. Human too strong!”

“You know it Strong!” Madison grinned, using his stomach as a punching bag for a few quick jabs, causing the super mutant to laugh; he was ticklish, after all.

Codsworth had been working on redecorating the docks that lay below the house down a steep slope, making his way back to the house to spot the Sole Survivor, picking up his pace in excitement.

“Mum! You’re back! It’s really you!”

“Codsworth!” She hugged the robot despite the awkwardness of the motion. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you hardly noticed I was gone.”

“Hardly noticed, mum!?” His voice raised an entire octave in indignation, causing his old friend to laugh uncontrollably.

“I kid Codsworth! Remind me to install that sarcasm upgrade sooner rather than later.”

In all the commotion, no one had noticed who had lingered upstairs while everyone else greeted the Sole Survivor, and who now stood in the doorway, still unsure whether to make their presence known or not. An arm draped sloppily over their shoulders, causing them to tense, and a still sleepy, rather high Hancock offered up a shaky smile.

“Go on, give her a shot Danse,” he wheezed.

“She destroyed the Prydwen. Murdered my brothers and sisters. I’m not sure I can forgive her, Hancock.” Danse replied to the ghoul, not happy about Hancock’s arm touching him, but forcing himself to endure the discomfort.

“Aw come on Dansie-pants,” Hancock huffed. “Those Brotherhood pricks were gonna have you killed. You can’t tell me they still meant anything to you after that. You know who saved you?” He nodded towards Madison, who was trying to talk to everyone at once, her boys having decided to cling to her legs and ‘keep her from disappearing again’. “She did. Not the Brotherhood of Assholes. _Her_.”

Danse opened his mouth to counter to ghoul, when Madison looked their way, suddenly locking eyes with the man who had been staring at her for a solid couple of minutes. And in that moment, the former paladin knew there would be no retreat. He just hoped what waited before him was a compromise for peace and not a full-blown war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm looking for some prompts to write to kill the time left on Madison's pregnancy. Any and all suggestions are welcome! And as always, fan theories are more than encouraged!


	11. Always Darkest Before the Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madison talks with Danse regarding where the two of them stand after the destruction of the Brotherhood of Steel caused by Madison, and their conversation takes a turn neither of them was expecting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning, this chapter contains content related to suicide, so if that's a trigger to you, please skip.

“I don’t understand, ma’am,” X6’s normally even voice carried an edge of anger. “It is my task to protect you.”

“Relax X,” Madison smiled half-heartedly at the Courser. “I’ll be alright.”

”But if M7-97 should try anything rash-…”

“Please X,” Madison snapped, maintaining a record amount of patience with her friend. “His name is Danse. You shall refer to him thusly or you shall not refer to him at all. Is that perfectly clear?”

“Yes ma’am,” X6 replied automatically.

Madison sighed, smiling again sadly. “And if he does, I can handle myself with him.”

“Normally I would agree, ma’am, but on account of the… you being….” He cut himself short, knowing that her pregnancy still remained largely a secret.

“X, have a little faith,” she sighed, eyeing the Courser pleadingly. “Danse is a friend. He was loyal to us before the Brotherhood exiled him, and he was more than loyal after we saved his life. There’s some strife between us, with me having left the Brotherhood in flames and all, but there’s no danger in the two of us resolving our differences.”

“I trust your judgement, ma’am,” X6 said, a hint of resignation in his voice.

Madison smiled more, finishing packing snacks in her backpack, sneaking a box of Fancy Lads Snack Cakes into the Courser’s hands. “Thanks X. Try not to drive everyone nuts in my absence.”

“No promises, ma’am,” X6 replied, the slightest hint of a smile coming to his stern face.

Madison patted his shoulder before slinging the backpack on, heading out the door of the house and heading for the far side of the island, where Danse had designated they meet in private to talk. She trudged up the hill, pausing briefly to check on the signal transmitter at the top of the hill, constantly deterring mirlurks from their home. From her vantage point, Madison easily spotted Danse on the beach, sitting where a fire pit had once been, where a rotting old bench and a few logs were gathered for use as seating. Slowly, a little nervous, a guilty pit settling in her stomach, Madison made her way down the hill and joined the former paladin, presenting her backpack after a minute of silence.

“I-I brought snacks…” she tried to sound light and cheery, but her voice trembled. And in the silence that followed, she broke down into tears.

Danse eyed her uncertainly, watching as the Sole Survivor’s body shook with sob after sob, her face hidden in her hands, but the grievous crying hardly muffled. He had wanted to be angry, to demand an explanation for his dead brothers and sisters, but seeing Madison—broken, vulnerable, devastated—he felt nothing but pity.

“They told me you didn’t have a choice…” his voice came quietly.

“They’re wrong,” Madison sniffled, pulling her face from her hands, staring at Danse with eyes that had gone red and puffy, the raw emotion on her face causing something novel to stir in the synth’s heart. “I had a choice. I could have chosen to walk away, to abandon Shaun and his endeavors while I still had an out.”

“But you remained loyal to your son.”

“I wanted things to work out between us… more than anything…” Madison’s grief was quickly mutating into a blind anger. “But it was never about _us_. It always about the Institute.”

“Loyalty,” Danse sighed, clearly struggling to accept everything. “It’s-… it’s a strange thing. I used to ask myself: if Maxson ever ordered me to kill the lot of you, even ordered me to simply head a group in bringing about your destruction, would I comply? And as much as I would like to tell you my answer was no, it would be lying. I would have done it, in a heartbeat. And I _know_ I would regret it after the fact, but that doesn’t change the fact that I _would_ do it. Because I used to trust Maxson. I used to think his intentions were good, his head clear, his heart pure. But now… having had time to come to terms with what I am, _who_ I am, I realize just how wrong he was with so many things…”

“I still shouldn’t have killed them… _or_ the Railroad… to think I trusted Father, just because he was my son, because I wanted him to be the son I had searched so hard to find…”

“If there’s anything I’ve learned, having left the Brotherhood, it’s that living in the past just leaves you useless to the future.” He reached over, placed a heavy but comforting hand on Madison’s shoulder. “What’s done is done. And if it’s any condolence to you, _I_ forgive you for all you’ve done. Because I can see you’re making all the effort in the world to carve a better future. And _that_ is what truly matters.”

Madison sat there in silence, feeling Danse’s hand weighing down on her shoulders that already wanted to crumple in defeat, but she felt something that she didn’t expect. A hollowness. Not relief, not renewal, not grateful: hollow. And the feeling drove her mad.

“You don’t understand, Danse,” she said, eerily calm, staring down the former paladin, eyes smoldering with something not quite sane. “I slaughtered them all. Every last one.”

“Don’t,” he frowned. “It’s done. There’s no point in dwelling on the subject.”

“No, you don’t understand!!” She was on her feet, pacing madly in the sand, hands trembling as they hovered by her temples, the smolder turning into a blaze. “You should hate me Danse!!”

“I don’t hate you,” he replied evenly, though internally scrambling to think of how to calm the Sole Survivor down, not sure what was wrong.

“No, you _should_!!” She snapped, furious. “Here!” She whipped out her laser pistol, shoving into the reluctant hands of the former paladin.

She stood her ground, feet spread to shoulder length, arms held out invitingly, a wild smile appearing quite suddenly on her stormy face. “Shoot me!”

“Madison-…” Danse’s voice conveyed both his shock and his disappointment.

“No! Here!” She tugged at his jacket until he was on his feet, pulling his arms so that the gun was held out, meticulously placing her head in front of the barrel. “Go on!”

“No!!” Danse snapped, tossing the gun aside into the sand. “I won’t!”

Madison stared up at him, eyes still unsettling, face expressing her utmost confusion. Danse thought for sure she had to calm down now, had to accept his apology. But the next thing he knew, she was picking the gun out of the sand, hands still trembling as she brought it to her chin, pointed up into her skull. In an instant, Danse's hands were tight around her wrists, forcing her to toss away the gun, holding her in place as she struggled to get free and attempt it all again, screaming, then crying, then going limp in his hands, crying worse. Danse was overwhelmed with a mix of emotions—anger, sadness, worry, confusion—as he enveloped her in his arms, holding her tight as she continued to cry.

“Let’s get you home…” he said quietly, taking her bridal-style in his arms, her body shaking from exhaustion, having cried herself dry, struggling to breathe through the relentless sobs.

Danse carried the Sole Survivor back to the house, taking care to avoid running into the people working on the farm and doing other such work out in the middle of the island, taking her instead around the sandy perimeter and around to the rocky outcrop at the foot of the house. MacCready was the first to spot Danse, having been waiting anxiously with Valentine at the bar for Madison to return. Sheepishly, Danse did his best to avoid the angry accusations of the ex-mercenary as he squeezed himself and the now unconscious Sole Survivor through the doorway, setting her gingerly on an available couch.

“What the hell did you do!?” MacCready snapped, Valentine placing himself between him and Danse.

Danse’s voice was barely audible as he stared at Madison, still in shock. “She tried to kill herself…”

“What…!?” MacCready went from anger to horrified disbelief in a heartbeat.

“Danse,” Valentine began calmly. “Tell us what happened…”

“I told her,’ He gulped. “I told her I forgave her. For everything. That if I were in her situation, I would’ve have done the same thing. And I told her not to focus on the past, but to work towards a better future, like she’s doing with the Institute and their synths…”

“And then what? She just tried to-…” MacCready couldn’t get the words out, swallowing hard.

“She just sort of sat there,” Danse turned to MacCready and Valentine, looking like an injured puppy. “And then she put her gun in my hands, told me to shoot her, physically placed her head in front of the barrel. And when I refused, tossed the gun aside, she picked it up and-… I-I hope I didn’t hurt her, I-…. I was just trying to save her…”

“You did the right thing Danse,” Valentine reassured his friend. “Why don’t you and MacCready get a drink, I’ll look after her.”

MacCready opened his mouth to protest, but a stern look from the synth detective kept him silent.

“Get a drink,” Valentine repeated, voice softening. “I’ll get you the minute she wakes up.”

She was shivering. Madison was back in her old home, colors still bright, sun still brilliant through the immaculate windows. The carpet was soft on her bare feet, her toes wiggling through the fabric. She looked around, the TV playing softly, dinner cooking in the oven and filling the house with the heavenly smell of chicken and rice. She heard a laugh, so familiar, so comforting, looking to the hallway down which Nate walked, smiling in that charming and yet wholesome way that he always did, struggling with a tie around his neck.

“Think you can give this old soldier a hand, hun?” He asked sheepishly.

She shook like a leaf where she stood, hair raised on her arms, breath puffing out in front of her.

“Nate, why is it so cold?” She asked between chattering teeth.

He laughed again, pulling her in with his arms wrapped around her waist, rubbing their noses in an Eskimo kiss. “Cold, angel?” His smile was usually enough to warm her from the inside out, but his soft touches and sweet nothings didn’t affect her like they should have.

“I’ll grab your coat,” he smiled, crossing the room to the closet, opening the doors.

“Which one do you want, honey?” He turned, and suddenly they were no longer in the house, but in the Vault, stuck in their separate pods.

“Nate!!” Madison screamed, her voice trapped by the insulating walls of the cryogenic pod.

He stared, frozen in time across from her in his own pod. He placed a hand up to the glass, and Madison mirrored the motion struggling to find some sort of release, struggling to escape. His mouth moved, saying something she couldn’t hear, and suddenly blood was bubbling up into his mouth, pouring down his chin and soaking everything as he grew paler and paler with every second. Madison was crying, sobbing, screaming, knowing the bullet wound was killing him, wanting to save him. And then she was falling, falling back into the blackness, clawing at thin air trying to stop the decent. She screamed his name as her own voice grew faint. And out of nowhere, the deafening sound of a gunshot, loud enough to be right beside her ear.

She woke up screaming, drenched in sweat, hyperventilating. Nick Valentine was immediately there, trying to talk her down as she fought him, panicked, crying. Slowly, she regained a grip on reality, curling up to the synth’s chest, still crying and shaking, trying to hide from it all in his trench coat. Valentine wrapped his arms around her, chin resting on her head, rocking her gently, heart aching with each of her broken sobs.

“Why did they have to die and leave me all alone?” She whimpered into his shirt.

“You’re not alone,” Valentine shushed her soothingly. “Your friends, we’re all right here. _I’m_ right here…”

She calmed down, slowly, eventually. She sat on the couch, staring at her hands, Valentine beside her, a constant comfort.

“It happened again, huh…?” Valentine asked quietly.

She hesitated, but then slowly, she nodded.

Valentine sighed. It had been more subtle before, the attempt at her life. There was a spell where she quit eating, while they were traveling back home through Capital Wasteland. Lucky for her, Valentine noticed, and he had to talk to her through an entire night before she ate again. And even then, he had to keep a constant eye on her and hound her to take in enough calories to keep her going. But now? He grabbed her hand, squeezing it, easing up as she flinched, her wrists bruised from Danse's grasp that had kept her alive.

“I-…” the synth hesitated, bowing his head so his hat hid his face. “I can’t lose you, pal… not now… not after all we’ve been through…”

“I know,” she answered, choking back a sob. “I’m sorry…”

“Do you think it’ll get better… you know, after the baby’s born? If I remember correctly, being pregnant can do some awful things to your head…”

Madison thought for a second. “Maybe… I know I went through a rough patch when I was pregnant with Shaun… but things were a lot simpler then… they had medication to keep me docile…”

They sat in silence a while longer, Valentine’s hand still clutching gently to Madison’s as a constant reassurance of his being there. When she spoke back up, her voice carried more of her old confidence, a good sign that she was taking control of her mind once more.

“Nick,” she said, straightening up. “Can you do me a favor and call everyone up to the house? I think it’s about time they hear the big news…”

“Yeah, of course doll.” He smiled, getting up from the couch, ducking outside and ringing the bell by the door, listening as its clear toll carried over the island, causing heads to turn from wherever they were and set down whatever they were doing to head for the house.

Madison came out of the side room, finding MacCready and Danse at the bar, both of them standing upon noticing her. She offered a small smile, the breath rushing out of her as MacCready met her like a brick wall for a hug, nearly squeezing her to death.

“Hey fuzzball,” she laughed breathlessly. “Worry much?”

MacCready mumbled something incoherent, a little whiny and a whole lot relived. Madison looked at Danse, smiling at him, and meeting him for a hug the moment MacCready freed her from his suffocating embrace.

“Hey you big lug,” she sighed into his shirt. “Thanks for saving my life…”

Danse didn’t know what to stay, afraid to hug her in front of MacCready, who clearly had something special with the Sole Survivor. “D-Does that sort of thing happen often..?”

Madison laughed a little, then remembered the seriousness of the situation, the realness of it all, and sobered up. “Well no…. just since I’ve been pregnant…”

“Y-You’re pregnant…?!” The former paladin’s voice raised to an unsteady octave.

“Aww, you flatter me Danse,” she laughed, pulling away. “You can’t tell? Oh! Which reminds me!”

She walked outside, where everyone of her friends had gathered, curiosity written all over their work-worn faces. She smiled at them all to lighten the air, standing on the porch as a stage and clearing her throat.

“Hey everybody, thanks for dropping your things to see me,” she began, not quite sure how to break the news to them all. “So yeah, I just, uh-… wanted to let you all know that I’m about four, five months pregnant. So there’s that…”

Her friends broke into baffled chatter, which quickly turned into something of an applause; they were happy for her, to say the least, and Piper decided to voice that for everyone.

“Hey, good for you Blue! You and MacCready already make great parents.”

“Yeah, that’s the thing,” MacCready snorted to himself from where he leaned in the doorway behind Madison. “The baby’s not mine. Mads has been pregnant since _before_ we started dating, or whatever we’re doing. Surprise!” He smirked something both amused and vicious. “So which one of you horny bastards knocked up my girl?”

There was the sound of a dull thwak as Madison’s hand hit her face in a gesture of utter disbelief, filling the shock silence that came before the uproar that was everyone figuring out just how many people the Sole Survivor had slept with. Some angry words were snapped at one another, a few high fives were exchanged, Cait knocked Hancock out cold, and everyone quieted down as MacCready whistled loudly.

“Thanks Robert,” Madison huffed. “Alright, now _listen up_ you pansies!! It doesn’t matter who the baby’s biological father is. You know why? Because we’re a family, _all_ of us! And you know what families do? They look after each other, blood or otherwise. Now this baby, they’re going to be a part of our family. Which means you’re _all_ going to play a role in looking out for the little tyke, seeing that they grow up to be a respectable member of the Commonwealth. Now, is that too much to ask..?”

“Ya, I don’t do little ones,” Cait grumbled. “I always think I’m gonna squish ‘em or sumthin’.”

“Well you’re going to have to suck it up, Cait,” Madison glared, eyeing up the other companions fiercely. “Any other complaints?”

A rumble of ‘no’s and a dozen shaking heads was enough to satisfy the Sole Survivor. She flashed a brief smile.

“Alright, back to work, the lot of you! Oh and Piper, the name we’re going with is Jackie.”

“I like it,” Piper smiled as she started backing to the garage. “May I inquire as to the inspiration for the name?”

Madison gave the reporter a cheeky wink, half directing it to Valentine as well, he had stood off to the side the entire time. “I like to keep my sources confidential, Ms. Wright.”

“Of course, Blue,” Piper laughed, ducking back into the garage. “Oh, and congrats, by the way!”

Madison remained on the porch as she watched her friends scatter across the island, returning to the vital work that kept the place up and running. The day had definitely had its ups and downs, but overall Madison marked it down as a good day overall. She wasn't dead, Danse was back with the gang on on good terms with her, and everyone was totally fine with the baby on the way, even if they were the potential father. For the first time since she had found out she was pregnant, Madison was able to place her hands on the baby bump without worrying about who was watching. She smiled, a shaky, nervous smile, but a happy one altogether.

"You'll never be lonely, little one," she whispered softly. "Mommy promises."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this one is a little short, but it's hard to draw out the length of the "I'm pregnant everybody!" chapter. As always, any comments will make me blush worse than Piper and cause me to immediately start writing that next chapter!
> 
> P.S. Predictions and fan theories are my fav! :) I'd love to comment back but since I know who the baby daddy is and you guys don't I don't want to risk giving any extra hints!!


	12. Distractions in Diamond City

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Valentine, Piper, and X6-88, along with Shaun and Duncan, travel to Diamond City to buy some crucial supplies for back home, while Madison's pregnancy draws nearer and nearer to a close.

“Stick close!” Valentine called anxiously at the two boys who insisted on chasing each other through the dangerous streets of apocalypse-torn downtown Boston. “We’re nearly there!”

“Don’t worry, detective,” X6’s voice was heard calmly from behind. “I’m keeping a close eye on them.”

“Sure you can handle them both?” Piper snorted. “I thought keeping a close eye on Blue was more your specialty.”

“Trust me, she gets into more trouble than you’d expect. Keeping an eye on young Shaun and young Duncan is nothing in comparison.”

The gang was headed for Diamond City to restock on supplies for the island. Most supplies had been arranged to arrive monthly by several caravans across the Commonwealth, who would all bring the goods to the Minutemen Castle; the Minutemen saw to it that it all made it across the water to the island. But every now and again, some supplies would run low before the month was over, and Valentine and Piper would make a run to Diamond City. This time, they had decided to bring along the boys, who were itching to explore the Commonwealth, and someone to babysit them, thus X6’s presence.

Valentine couldn’t help but smile at the Courser. Madison had instructed him to change out of uniform for the visit, so that he wouldn’t terrify any civilians in the city. He wouldn’t quit grumbling about what little protection his new get-up provided, but seeing him in the ratty old t-shirt and faded jeans with combat armor strapped to his chest and limbs, he looked almost normal. And in Valentine’s opinion, it made it easier to the treat the guy like a real person.

“Pew pew!” Duncan squinted one eye, pointing the laser pistol X6 had given him at a sign and pretending to shoot.

Earlier, Valentine had thought the guy crazy for arming the kiddos, and X6 had simply replied to him: “No ammo.”

“Great shot Duncan!” Shaun laughed, pointing his own empty laser pistol at a trash can. “Pew!”

“You missed, Shaun,” Duncan giggled.

“I did not!” The older boy protested, cheeks blushing in embarrassment.

“Young Duncan is right,” X6 jumped in. “Don’t forget to use your sights when taking a shot, young Shaun.”

“Alright, thanks Mr. X…” Shaun sighed, finding another target and using the sights to shoot.

“You showed him, Shaun!” Duncan praised his older friend, jumping up to throw an arm around his shoulders, dragging Shaun down to his level, the both of them laughing.

“They’re sweet kids,” Piper sighed, relieved as she spotted Diamond City guards and knew they were getting real close. “I hope they stay that way…”

“Don’t worry Piper,” Valentine smiled sadly. “They’ll turn out just fine.”

By the time they reached the Diamond City gate, Shaun and Duncan had tired of their game, and instead clung onto X6, Shaun holding the Courser’s hand and Duncan riding on his shoulders. Neither Valentine nor Piper had expected X6 to be the kid-friendly type, but the Courser endured his plight with a sort of quiet grace, and when he opened his mouth, only friendly words and encouragement came out, though his tone still flat and even. The boys adored him, mostly because Shaun felt close to the Courser from knowing him so long, and Duncan tended to imitate whatever Shaun did. But the kids also provided X6 with a sort of freedom he hadn’t felt before, a freedom to be a little out of line and not totally all-business; with adults, he didn’t feel able to act that way, but he didn’t find it necessary to make an intimidating impression with the boys. What X6 didn’t know is that Valentine noticed the difference the kids caused in the Courser, and it reassured the old synth detective that the Institute _could_ change for the better, like Madison proposed, if its most ruthless and obedient soldiers had a soft-spot in their hearts for children.

Like always, Piper argued with Danny Sullivan through the intercom, causing Valentine to intervene.

“We’re here for a little shopping, Danny,” The detective said calmly.

“Oh, Mr. Valentine!” Danny’s voice was heard through the static-filled speaker. “Yeah, let me just get the gate open for you…”

Valentine smiled. “Thanks Danny.”

“Uncle Nick!” Shaun came over, dragging X6 along. “Can we see your detective agency while we’re here?”

“And Aunt Piper’s news stand!” Duncan added excitedly from his perch on the Courser.

“Sure, I don’t see why not.” Piper beamed, giving Shaun’s hair a ruffle and reaching up to pitch Duncan’s nose teasingly, dissolving the both of them into giggles. “What do you say, Nick?”

“No protest from me,” he chuckled.

The gears on the big industrial door began to hum into motion, the door clanking noisily as it was hoisted up on creaking cables. Once the door settled into place in an opened positioned, the gang walked in, Valentine tipping his hat to Danny Sullivan in his control room as they headed for the stairs leading down into Diamond City.

Both Shaun and Duncan gasped in awe at the sight of the city. Shaun had never seen anything like it, and Duncan had never seen anything so big and bright. Shaun’s eyes wandered, trying to take in everything, landing on one of the Institute flags flying, unable to help but smile, feeling a rush of pride for his mother. He followed X6 as he continued down the stairs, meeting back up with Piper and Valentine who stood outside of Publick Occurrences. Shaun's eyes, still taking everything in, suddenly looked ahead and caught sight of something that made him stop dead in his tracks, eyes wide, breathing suddenly difficult.

“Shaun,” Piper smiled. “Meet my lil sis, Nat.”

“H-Hi…” Shaun managed to gulp.

“What’s his problem?” Nat snorted in contempt at the boy’s shocked expression. “Never seen a girl before?”

“N-No,” he said, trying his best to be defensive. “I have…!”

Duncan cut into the tense conversation as X6 helped him off his shoulders.

“Hi!” He chimed, smiling his big, bright, gap-toothed smile. “My name’s Duncan.”

“Hi,” Nat said, “Like Piper said, I’m Nat.”

“Nice to meet you Nat,” he stuck out a hand, which Nat shook, though a little condescendingly; her attitude didn’t faze Duncan.  “Is a quick tour of the city too much to ask for?”

“Yeah,” Nat frowned.

“Come on Nat!” Piper egged her on. “How are they gonna know the _real_ truth without you to show 'em the ropes?”

“Fine…” Nat grumbled. “Just make sure you watch the office while I’m gone! Last thing we need is the mayor poking around in our absence!”

“Yes ma’am!” Piper saluted her little sister, watching as she ran off with Shaun and Duncan in tow.

“She seems very capable, Piper,” X6 observed. “You should be proud.”

“Yeah, well, what can I say?” The reporter dodged easily. “Now while the kids are occupied, we should probably get our shopping done. Last thing we need is to be trekking back to the Minutemen Castle in the dark.”

And so Piper, Valentine, and X6-88 split up. They had hardly been at the shopping business five minutes when Valentine felt it necessary to check in on the Courser, worried about his ability to lay low around civilians. The synth detective backtracked through the many alleys of Diamond City, finally spotting the plainly-garbed X6 in the market, taking with the two Gen 1 synths the Institute had sent to the city to make it all the more obvious they were top dog. Curious, Valentine eavesdropped on what was being said.

“The Director sends her affections, Steven, Kyle.”

“Thank you, sir. We wish only to make Mother proud.”

The Courser nodded. “Carry on then.”

“Yes sir.”

Valentine couldn’t hide a somewhat smug smile as he moseyed over to X6. “Hey X.”

The Courser didn’t make eye contact; whether out of contempt or embarrassment, it was unclear. “Detective.”

“So… Steven and Kyle, huh?” Valentine raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t think your buddies at the Institute named Gen 1’s.”

“We don’t,” X6 replied stiffly. “But Madison has nicknamed these two. I’m simply respecting her wishes.”

“Sure, alright,” Valentine eased up, changing the subject. “So, have you covered everything on your list yet?”

X6 shook his head. “The woman running the general store refused to allow me access to her merchandise.”

Valentine groaned in exasperation. “That’s Myrna for you. She’s real anti-synth.”

“She’s paranoid. It’s repulsive.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Valentine shrugged, not caring to hide his distaste for the bitter woman. “Lets you and I take her on together. She can’t refuse _both_  of us business.”

“Seems logical enough to try,” the Courser sighed quietly, his subtle display of impatience hinting to the far more intense emotions kept well concealed.

Valentine gave him a reassuring pat on the back before heading over to Myrna’s shop with X6 following him. As soon as she spotted the synth detective, the aging woman’s face soured into a highly unattractive expression, which Valentine countered with an easy smile.

“Hey Myrna,” he greeted calmly. “Madison sent me and my friend here to buy some supplies. You remember Madison, don’t you? Director of the Institute, can blow the head off a super mutant from a mile away, and a personal close friend of mine?”

“You know the rules: no synths allowed!” Myrna countered, but the tremble in her voice keyed into her crumbling stubbornness.

“If you wish to continue your business on Institute property, you’ll have to make an exception.” X6’s cold, threatening voice was enough to send a chill down even Valentine’s metal spine.

“Look, I’m not selling to synths,” she said quickly. “But if Percy lets them shop here, I can’t help that!”

With that, she ducked inside her home, hurrying to send Percy out in her stead. When she disappeared inside, X6 turned to Valentine, the slightest hint of a smile on his face.

“Good thinking, detective.”

“We showed her, didn’t we tough guy?” Valentine smiled.

“Yes, we did,” X6’s smile persisted even through the nickname—he usually scowled at the nicknames people used on him.

Percy came out from Myrna’s house, greeting Valentine and X6 happily. Between the two of them, they bought more shotgun shells, and as many screws as Percy had available. Satisfied that all was well at Diamond City Surplus, Valentine left X6 to finish up the shopping there, heading to check up on Piper. He found her chatting with Solomon. Valentine lifted an eyebrow as he walked over and saw Solomon slip the reporter a slew of different chems.

“Look, I don’t know how much Madison is paying you Piper,” the detective sighed. “But you _know_ she can’t be dong that sort of stuff while she’s pregnant.”

“Oh believe me, I know,” Piper rolled her eyes. “They’re for Hancock. He’s driving everyone up a wall with his constant worrying. He’s literally the worst expectant potential-father I’ve ever seen.”

“Good thinking,” Valentine groaned, paying Solomon for a few extra. Madison was almost eight months pregnant, and ever since the sixth-month mark hit, Hancock had been unbearably anxious. Madison had told him over and over how it was impossible for the baby to be his, since being a ghoul made him sterile, but that didn’t deter Hancock. He insisted on taking responsibility for the baby, and the mere thought of responsibility and babies had turned him into an unbearable nervous wreck.

“I don’t know about you Nick,” Piper said, following the detective as they went next door to see Doctor Sun and buy an overzealous amount of medicine in preparation for the baby’s nearing birth-date. “But when Hancock is all anxious and worried, it gets me that way too.” She shivered.

“It’s affecting everyone that way, Piper,” Nick shook his head. “The amount of times I’ve had to bandage Cait’s hands after she goes punching at trees to rid herself of the anxiety... And don’t get me started on how many pairs of shoes MacCready had worn right through with all the pacing he does! And Danse!” Valentine laughed. “It’s a good thing the guy has to sleep, or else he’d be bombarding me with questions twenty-four seven!”

“I know!” Piper pulled a face. “Every time I run into Curie, she promptly checks to make sure we have all the supplies we need for Madison to give birth safely. Then she gets into all the details and… ugh!!” She shivered again, turning pale.

Valentine began counting off on his metal fingers. “Preston keeps taking extra guard shifts when he’s not ‘dealing with important Minutemen business’, Strong is far more talkative than usual, and Codsworth is constantly reminiscing about when Shaun was born and doesn’t leave Madison’s side for a second!”

“I’m honestly surprised bad-boy X hasn’t had a break-down yet,” Piper laughed through her nose.

“He worries about Madison so constantly, you’d think his system would overload at this point,” Valentine added, turning to check on the Courser. He was still at Diamond City Surrplus, but Shaun and Duncan and joined him, giggling messes and looking quite suspicious.

“Well what do we have here?” He mused aloud, heading over to the trio with Piper tailing him.

“Here you are, sah!” Percy chimed. “All the boxes of Fancy Lads Snack Cakes in the store!”

“Thank you,” X6 said evenly.

“Thanks Mr. Percy!” Both boys echoed cheerily.

They turned, fifteen boxes of the snack cakes stacked in X6’s arms, held in place by his chin, and were met with an incredulous Nick Valentine.

“What’s this?” He asked, eyebrow raised.

“We’re out of them back home,” X6 replied without missing a beat.

“How can we be out of them?” The detective asked disbelievingly. “We had a dozen boxes left at the beginning of the week!”

“We’ll they’re all gone now.”

“They are, Uncle Nick!” Shaun blinked, green eyes sparkling with innocence. “I tried to sneak one yesterday and the last box was empty!”

“I saw Mr. Danse eat the last one!” Duncan added.

“And the other day I saw Ms. Curie take a whole box for herself!”

Duncan turned on his friend. “And Shaun eats a ton of them _all_ the time!” 

“I do not!” Shaun lied, projecting the blame elsewhere. “Mr. X eats a box for each meal, breakfast lunch and dinner!”

X6 didn’t reply, but instead remained totally impassive, the huge stack of boxed cakes proclaiming his guilt for him.

Valentine let the three of them off the hook as his stern gaze melted away behind a smile. “Well I guess I’ll have to have a stern talk with Mr. Danse and Ms. Curie when we get home, won’t I?”

Shaun and Duncan tried to smother their giggles behind their hands, absolutely giddy to be getting away unscathed. As X6 and Duncan headed for the stairs out of Diamond City, Shaun hung back, giving Valentine a hug.

“Thanks Uncle Nick…” he mumbled with a small smile. “Sorry we ate all the cakes….”

“Don’t sweat it, kiddo,” the detective chuckled, patting the small synth on the head. “Just don’t let your mother catch you!” He gave Shaun a wink, and the boy grinned in response, running to catch up with the Courser and his friend.

Later, as they were walking back through the streets of Boston, Piper turned to Valentine. “I never asked you Nick, how come _you_ aren’t freaking out over the baby?”

Nick shrugged after a minute of thought. “What’s to worry about? Just look at those two.”

Up ahead, Shaun and Duncan were engaged in a game of leapfrog under the close supervision of X6-88.

“Seeing how those two are coming along in this wasteland, I can hardly be worried about the newest one.”

Piper flashed Nick a smile. “Yeah, but aren’t you worried about your dearly beloved?”

Nick’s synthetic skin grew hot with his crush being called out in the open. He looked at Piper, expecting to see disgust, anger, disappointment, but instead she was smiling fondly.

“Sure, I’m worried about her,” he shrugged awkwardly. “But with how the pregnancy hormones have been affecting her head, I’ll be far more relived when this baby is out of her than when it’s still inside. And on the subject of getting it out? Between Curie’s expertise and the Institute’s technology, it should be fine…”

Piper gave her friend a supportive pat on the back before dashing ahead, getting in on the game of leapfrog, much to the boys' giggly surprise. Nick sighed, glad the reporter hadn’t seen through his ruse. Because in truth, he was absolutely terrified. _Anything_ could go wrong, having a baby in the harsh wastes. Even with Curie and the Institute’s help—assuming they would give it—so many unforeseen complications could arise. They could lose the baby. They could lose Madison, too. Or she could contract an illness during birth and die a week later. It was times like these that Valentine was thankful for the lack of human bodily functions, for he would have been drenched in sweat at this point. And the absolute worst part of it all was knowing there was nothing he could do in advance to prevent such complications. He had to just…. _wait_. And Valentine hated that. But unfortunately, that’s all anyone could do for their friend. Wait… and pray for a miracle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little lighter content after that last chapter! Let me know what you think! :)


	13. The Big Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Madison goes into labor, X6 fetches Doctor Volkert from the Institute to help in the baby's birth. Things don't go as smoothly as hoped.

Doctor Dean Volkert was just packing up for the night, closing up his medical bay to return to his quarters in the Institute, beginning to imagine what sort of nonsense his son Brendon had to say about his day in the BioScience lab. He was so lost in thought that he nearly had a heart attack when a voice cut into the introspective silence.

“Doctor Volkert.”

The doctor turned abruptly, coming face to face with a Courser. A moment later, he recognized this specific unit to be the one constantly accompanying the Director in her shenanigans on the surface.

“Yes? What is it?”

X6-88 shoved one of the Institute’s cleanroom suits into the doctor’s arms. “Your presence is needed on the surface immediately.”

Flustered and indignant, the doctor stared the Courser down. “With what, exactly?!”

“The Director has gone into labor,” the doctor thought he heard a slight tremble in the Courser’s even tone.

“I see,” Doctor Volkert said flatly, and began to don the suit to protect him from the radiation and diseases on the surface. “How long has she been in labor?”

“Exactly 2.76 minutes.”

“You were prompt in getting here, weren’t you?” The doctor mused aloud, zipping up his suit.

“It is my job to protect the Director. I plan to do that job well.”

“Fair enough,” Doctor Volkert sighed, putting on the helmet and zipping it to the collar of the suit. “Then let’s not jeopardize your record. Let’s go.”

The molecular relay zapped the two of them to the island, planting them at the top of the hill by the signal transmitter. X6 wasted no time marching down the hill towards the house, but Doctor Volkert paused, in awe. He had never been away from the Institute, after all. Never seen the world on the surface.

“Doctor Volkert,” X6 called back to remind the man of their mission, his impatience edging into his voice.

“Right… right,” the doctor managed, shaking himself and following after the Courser, eyes still wandering as they headed for the house.

As they got close, Doctor Volkert noticed a pile of beds and dressers and other such furniture stacked by the house. “What’s that all about?”

“Had to clear out room for the baby to be born in. Strong stacked them here.”

“Ah, I see… and just who is Strong?”

As if on the cue, the super mutant came pacing by, hammer held at the ready.

“Strong keep guard for puny humans while they busy!” He reported to X6.

Ignoring the doctor who had turned unhealthily pale, the Courser nodded to the super mutant. “Keep up the good work, Strong.”

The mutant gave a nod and continued on his rounds, ensuring the safety of the island while everyone was in a panic inside.

“This way, doctor,” X6’s words reached the shocked Doctor Volkert, and the both walked into the house.

Inside was utter chaos. Madison was upstairs in labor, with only Curie and her appointed nurse Nick Valentine accompanying her. Everyone else was subjected to stay on the first floor, cringing with every pained scream that came from their pregnant friend. Hancock was popping mentats like it was his job, Cait kept punching the drugs out of his hands as her anger would boil over and then start building once more. MacCready had been talking to Piper, trying to calm the reporter’s nerves by telling her about Lucy’s pregnancy and the birth of Duncan, but with every scream of Madison he grew more and more anxious until it was the bucket of nerves that was Piper who was calming _him_ down as best she could. Preston and Danse were sharing a couch, the both of them eerily still and quiet, sweat glistening on their foreheads as they gulped and grew more ghostly pale with each passing minute. Codsworth was frantically passing out food and drinks to everyone until he was practically burying them all in the refreshments. A whimper was heard from under Piper and MacCready’s couch, and a worried pair of amber eyes glowed from underneath.

“Where’s young Shaun and young Duncan?” Were the first words out of X6’s mouth.

“In the garage, Mister X!” Codsworth chimed immediately. “They’re fast asleep there.”

“Wait a sec,” Hancock said indignantly from his mile-high stupor. “You brought Institute trash _here_!?”

“He’s a doctor, Hancock,” X6 snapped, the lack of patience in his voice rather surprising, though not nearly as surprising as the snarl that came across his face. “He’s here to ensure the survival of Ms. Madison.”

The anger on the Courser’s already intimidating face shut the ghoul right up, and deterred any further discussion of the matter. Satisfied, X6 managed to compose himself, heading for the stairs. “This way, Doctor Volkert.”

The sight upstairs was something else. Curie and Valentine had taken three bedframes and lined them up against each other, then placed two mattresses across the three beds side by side, the closet thing they could get to a proper hospital bed in the time crunch. All the other beds had been tossed out the windows and stacked up outside by Strong, leaving the upstairs empty aside from Madison on the makeshift bed, Curie rushing around to ensure everything was ready as the labor progressed, and Nick Valentine holding onto Madison’s hand, worry written all over his face but his voice managing to stay utterly calm.

“I brought Doctor Volekrt, ma’am,” X6 reported in the calmest voice he could muster, which happened to be trembling.

Madison managed a tired half smile for her Courser, breathing too heavily to converse.

“Doctor Volkert,” X6 continued. “This is Curie. She is our resident doctor, and has centuries of medical expertise.”

Curie flashed the Courser a blushing smile. “You flatter me, Monsieur X!”

“Pleasure to meet you Curie,” Doctor Volkert managed, snapping into his professional mindset. “Now how about you and I deliver this baby safe and sound?”

The hours that passed felt like days to the friends waiting anxiously on the first floor, the thin separation between the floors leaving aurally very little to the imagination. Cait had long since knocked Hancock clean out when his chem usage got out of hand, and sat with nails clawing at the skin around her fingers, hands turning into bloody messes real fast. Danse had turned to pacing, and the steady thumping of his heavy feet helped to draw the others’ attention to something other than the sounds from upstairs. Preston had excused himself to check on Strong over an hour ago, no doubt patrolling with the super mutant. MacCready was clinging to Piper’s arm, and the reporter didn’t complain, drawing comfort from the soft-hearted father’s constricting grasp. Codsworth had gotten so flustered he overheated and went into an automatic shutdown to cool off. But then, every last one of them froze, heart skipping a beat, as they finally heard a sound distinct from all the rest: the cry of a baby.

“Here, Monsieur X,” Curie panted, the crying baby in her arms tangled up in the towel used to clean them up. “We need you to hold zhis for a while.”

She shoved the baby into the Courser’s unsure arms, reassuring herself that he was supporting the head correctly and had everything right before she returned to help Doctor Volkert. Madison wasn’t stable. Not yet, at least. As worried as X6 was for his Director and personal friend, he was fascinated by the tiny baby in his arms. It seemed strange, that humans would reproduce in this way, creating tiny, fragile prototype humans that had to survive the harsh world to make it to adulthood. While synth production seemed much more practical, this way just seemed… pure, raw, unaltered. Like a piece of the past; ancient humans having given birth to the humans of today and raising them to be better than those before them, and now in his arms he held the future of human-kind, reliant on others now but one day to surpass them in all ways. And the future was rather cute, X6 had to admit with a slight smile. He looked at the baby, tiny and shriveled, eyes still shut, but resilient, persistent on clinging to life, no matter how difficult. The Courser reached down with one gentle gloved hand to brush the scant amount of hair into a more respectable comb-over style, admiring the pale blonde color and fine texture, like the softest of corn silk.

X6 was surprised when the little one grabbed a hold of his finger, not quite able to wrap its tiny hand around completely, but exercising a surprising amount of strength for one so small and fragile. And slowly, the little baby blinked its eyes, opening them for the first time to reveal them to be an incredibly pale blue-green in color, staring at the Courser with an even gaze.

“Hello little one,” the Courser tried to keep his voice soft and quiet.

The baby blinked in response, cooing softly, letting go of X6’s finger as they squirmed in a stretch. Madison was watching the two of them, a weak smile on her face gone pale from the blood she had lost. But despite her condition, she was at peace. Because her baby had people that loved them, with or without her around.

“Stay with me, pal,” Nick Valentine was heard, voice starting to grow a little distant.

She turned her head towards him, offering her smile to the synth detective with a little renewed strength. “Boy or girl, Nick…?”

“It’s a boy. A healthy little boy.” He answered back, blinking rapidly as water began to leak from his eyes.

“Aww, look at you,” Madison laughed hoarsely. “You aren’t getting emotional on me, are you Nicky?”

He held her hand tightly, panic blasting his mind as he felt her strength leaving her. “Just stay with me, okay?”

She flinched visibly as Curie injected an IV into her arm, causing her to whimper in panic, saying something breathlessly about hating needles. Valentine squeezed her hand again to draw her attention away from what the two doctors were doing. She looked at him, eyes suddenly full of fear, and an urgency that Valentine only ever saw in the eyes of the dying. His heart couldn’t take that look being in _her_ eyes, of all people…

“Jackson Wallace,” she managed to get between muffled cries of pain and blinding waves of agony washing over her as the drugs being pumped into her arm began to work fast and brutally. “The baby-… his name-…”

Valentine cut her off with a fervent nod, not wanting her to exhaust herself with all the conversation. “Got it, doll. But you gotta stick around to tell him that yourself.”

She smiled again, weaker still, eyelids fluttering, tempting her with blissful and quiet sleep. Oh, but Madison knew she couldn’t. She fought to keep her eyes open, staring painfully up at the ceiling as the two doctors worked briskly around her, silent, faces somber. Valentine pried his eyes from the Sole Survivor’s contorted face, looking to doctors for any update. Doctor Volkert was rapidly changing out the blood bags feeding into her right arm, face unreadable behind the cleanroom suit mask, and Curie looked to the detective from her place monitoring the drugs pumping into Madison’s left arm. She was beyond worried, but she wasn’t in tears. Not yet. And that gave Valentine hope.

“Valentine…”

He looked up at the mention of him name, shock registering somewhere unimportant for the moment. “Yes X?”

“What should I-… should I just-… or maybe I could-…” The Courser was at a loss for words, having decided to check on Madison once the immediate distraction that was the baby had run its course, and he suddenly realized the seriousness of the situation. Or more accurately, he suddenly realize he may lose his dearest and potentially only friend.

“Take the baby downstairs, show the others,” Valentine looked to Curie for confirmation, and at her nod, continued. “Tell them his name is Jackson Wallace. And when they ask about Madison, tell them we’re just getting her stable.”

X6-88 hesitated, not liking the instructions, wanting to be more proactive. But what could he do? His medical knowledge was limited to topical wounds and preliminary treatment of sprained or broken limbs. He looked to Madison, and she met his gaze, a smile appearing very briefly on her lips.

“Take care of our baby, X…”

And that was that. He had his orders, straight from the Director herself. Straightening himself and blinking back what might have been tears, hidden behind his reflective sunglasses, the Courser nodded.

“Yes ma’am.”

And with that, he headed down the stairs, each step downwards putting a weight in his chest, crushing down on his heart, making it hard for his lungs to breath, making it hard to move in general. All eyes were one him as he entered the main room, rocking the baby gently.

“Jackson Wallace, everyone.” There wasn’t a hint of emotion in the Courser’s voice.

And the baby was quickly stolen away from the Courser, swept up first into MacCready’s arms, cooed at and complimented relentlessly as if that man had forgotten his lack of biological relation to the tiny boy. More likely he no longer cared. He made faces until little Jackson smiled a huge gummy smile at him, gurgling happily. Piper laughed at all the baby’s faces, marveling at the wide range of expression he could already manage, tickling idly at his feet as MacCready held him. Piper then insisted that Danse, who was trying to get a closer look and stay far away all at once, have a turn at holding little Jackson. Despite the former paladin’s stammering excuses of lack of training, the baby ended up in his strong arms, and he had no choice but to stare down at the tiny fragile thing. Jackson stared back at the huge, bushy-eyed man, and after a minute of sizing him up, decided with a bright smile and a coo that he liked him. The mere sight of the smiling baby put a huge goofy smile onto Danse’s face, and he began talking with Jackson, referring to him lovingly as soldier. He then showed the baby to Cait, who had been hanging back like a suspicious cat since the moment X6 had come downstairs. She poked a finger at Jackson, and nearly jumped out of her skin when he grabbed a hold of her finger, able to hold it much better than X6’s. After a moment of tense silence, a hint of a smile came over her face.

“Guess the little shite isn’t too terrible…”

“Language, Cait!” Danse practically gasped in indignation like a chiding mother, turning to Jackson with an apologetic expression. “Don’t listen to her, soldier. We’ve got to keep your manners ship shape!”

"You hold on just a minute there..!!"

“Wha-… what’s going on..?” Hancock’s voice was heard from the floor where he had fallen unconscious, rubbing his head from the solid punch Cait had landed against his skull.

He got up, scanning all the faces staring at him in something of a daze, suddenly coming to the realization that Danse was holding something. Something tiny and pink. His eyes got big as saucers as he realized.

“Let me see! I wanna see!” He wheezed as he stumbled past everyone to see the baby, staring in motionless silence, just barely peaking over Danse's arms, like he was observing a skittish Ragstag.

Jackson turned to the ghoul, blinking at him from the comfort of Danse’s beefy arms, deciding to reach out for Hancock. Carefully, Hancock wiggled a finger at the itty bitty outstretched hand, managing to tickle the palm in the process and dissolving little Jackson into a squirming fit of frothy giggles. Hancock broke out in an ear to ear grin.

“What a precious little bundle of joy!” Hancock practically squealed, stealing the baby from a very disappointed Danse, tickling Jackson more as he rocked him in one arm. “What’s his name, huh? What are we calling our little rascal?”

“Jackson Wallace,” X6 answered from where he had been watching over the tiny baby like a hawk.

“Jackson Wallace, what a mouthful!” Hancock said to the baby, ignoring everyone around him and the looks they were undoubtedly sending his way. “How ‘bout Jack? Let’s call you Jack! What do you think?” He tickled the baby again and got a high pitched squeak out of him, grinning so much his face was sure to crack. “See? He likes it!”

Shortly thereafter, Codsworth rebooted and nearly overheated again with excitement to find his new little sir had been born, obsessing over him completely and refusing to call him anything but Jackson Wallace, despite the nickname Jack quickly catching on with everyone else. Preston returned from his rounds, and was shocked to find the anxiety in the room having turned to total bliss, but it all made sense when he spotted the squirming baby in MacCready’s arms. Preston was quickly pulled into the room and the baby ended up in his arms. He offered the tiny boy small smiles and rocked him gently until the sensory-overloaded newborn drifted into a much needed sleep. With little Jackson down for the count, it left people time to start to wonder.

“Hey, where’s Madison, by the way?” MacCready piped up.

X6 felt it again, that crushing weight in his chest, but he didn’t let himself miss a beat when it came to his answer. “She’s recovering. She doctors are just making sure she’s in top shape before they leave her side.”

Everyone seemed to buy in, no one wanting to think that anything was wrong on this happy occasion of little Jackson’s birth. Everyone except MacCready, who knew better than to assume things were going to be okay. As soon as he had a moment alone with X6, he pulled the Courser aside, lowering his voice.

“X, what’s really going on?” He asked, worry clouding his eyes.

X6 just shook his head, voice almost nonexistent. “It’s not good…”

The look on MacCready’s face was enough to break three peoples’ hearts all at once, but X6 felt marginally better having confided in someone about Madison's current condition. And MacCready, too, knew better than to ruin the day with unnecessary bad news. And so alone in their worry over their friend’s near unavoidable death, X6 and MacCready watched the others continue on, their joy unspoiled, as they lay Jackson down in his crib they had built for him in the side room, each one of them mooning over the precious sight of a soundly sleeping infant, unaware of the tragedy right above them, and the somber tomorrow that lay ahead.


	14. Jack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A year has passed since Jackson Wallace's birth, and everyone awaits a moment they have long been waiting for.

“Hey Jack,” Hancock yawned as he made his way into the side room, still half asleep. “Sleep well?”

Jackson, now one year old, was standing in his crib, bouncing himself in excitement to finally have someone visit him, especially that someone being Hancock. And Hancock was certain there wasn’t a baby in the entire Commonwealth that was cuter than little Jack. The boy’s hair had grown in thick, but remained the fairest of blonde in color, practically white, and even after just a year in the big bad world, his face and arms and legs were dusted with freckles. As usual, he wore nothing but his diaper, fashioned from an old bandana, with his thumb stuck contently in his mouth.

Hancock yawned again, scooping up the infant and taking him outside. He smiled lazily as Jack snuggled into his coat, beaming angelically. The ghoul marched them up the hill, and once they reached the top, sat down with the infant in his lap, facing east to watch the sunrise. Hancock didn’t care much personally for the sun, but it was always worth taking Jack to see it, just for the look of wonder on the boy’s chubby face. Leaning back, Hancock let out a contented sigh, taking off his hat to put it atop Jack’s head, chuckling to himself as it just about swallowed the boy whole. But Jack didn’t mind. Instead, he blushed furiously in excitement, shifting the hat so that he could see again, and beaming proudly all the while it was on his head.

“Hey, guess what today is, my lil’ man,” Hancock smiled.

Jack turned to look at the ghoul, thumb still stuck in his mouth, the hat flopping down into his eyes as he turned. He pushed it back up again, looking at Hancock intently with his misty blue-green eyes.

“Your mommy’s coming home,” he said, treasuring the look of utter joy that lit up Jack’s face. “And hopefully, this time, she’ll be able to stay. Maybe for good.”

Jack sucked on his thumb with renewed vigor, a sign of his overzealous excitement, turning back to stare at the sunrise, but not before snuggling closer to the ghoul, and taking a hold on his hand as best as his own tiny hand could. Hancock knew that his friends on the island loved and cared for him, but the sort of love Jack showed him was something entirely different. Something the mayor hadn’t known he needed, but now didn’t think he could live without. Hancock scooped Jack up in his arms for a hug, and Jack hugged onto his arm in return.

“You’re a right and proper angel, you know that lil’ man?”

Of course, Jack didn’t reply. No one ever expected him to. He never had said anything in his life, despite being overdue for his first words. Curie attributed it to early trauma, with the whole situation with his mother, and said that otherwise, he was developing just fine. But Hancock didn’t mind; mute or mouthy, he would love his little Jack until he turned to dust.

The sun rose higher into the sky, and the sound of conversation drifted lazily up the hill from the house, reaching the ears of the ghoul and his tiny friend as nothing but suggestive whispers.

“Ready to go back?” Hancock asked, receiving a nod and scooping Jack into his arms. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

As they headed back down the hill, Jack finally removed his thumb from his mouth, needing both hands to hoist the tricorn hat from his head and attempt to put it back on Hancock’s. The mayor offered small smile—he seemed to always be smiling, nowadays—and provided help in the last leg of the hat’s journey, putting it back on. Just as they were about to get back to the house, Danse popped his head outside, spotting them and coming out grinning.

“Hey there soldier!” He said with mock sternness, fists on his hips. “Drop and give me twenty!”

Hancock laughed as Jack looked to him anxiously, the ghoul complying by setting the boy on the ground and making sure he had his balance on two feet before letting him go. With all the concentration he could muster, Jack wobbled precariously, managing the steps necessary to make it to Danse, who had crouched and opened his arms for the tiny boy.

“Outstanding!” Danse growled playfully, tossing Jack into the air and laughing at his surprised squeaks, bringing him in close to nuzzle their noses together. “Was it a pretty sunrise today, bud?”

Jack clasped onto either side of the former paladin’s face, continuing to rub their noses in an Eskimo kiss as his cheeks turned bright pink with uncontained bliss. Danse blushed too, amazed that anyone could love him as much as Jack did. In fact, it was a reoccurring theme, how unconditionally Jack loved each and every person on the island. They were all his family, after all.

“Hey there!” Shaun smiled as he came outside at the sound of Jack’s squeals. “How’s my favorite baby brother doing?”

Danse relinquished the boy into Shaun’s capable arms, the synth child having taken his responsibility as big brother to heart. Shaun held Jack, bouncing him as he smiled and chatted the tiny boy’s ear off.

“Guess who’s coming home today! Mommy! Are you excited Jack? Huh?”

In response, Jack buried his face into Shaun’s oversized shirt, full face blushing bashfully.

“Yeah! And Mister X says that she might be home for good! No more bye bye to Mommy! Isn’t that great?”

Shaun carried his brother inside, being met by Duncan who tugged on his ears and crossed his eyes while sticking out his tongue, succeeding in making his baby brother giggle.

“Morning to you too, Jack!” He nodded astutely, as if they were having a very serious talk.

A few seconds later and practically everyone in the house bombarded the small boy with excited ‘good morning’s and tickles and lots of love all around. Jack couldn’t stop blushing, giving out hugs left and right, loving on his family as much as his little heart could. But his still-developing mind was focused on one thing, and one thing only: his mommy was coming home.

On the other side of the Commonwealth, hundreds of feet below ground, Madison sat with Doctor Volkert and X6-88, waiting as patiently as she could while the doctor reviewed her most recent test results. While she hadn’t died the night of Jack’s birth, she had fallen gravely ill, nearly succumbing to the sickness. In a last ditch effort, Doctor Volkert had the two of them relayed back to the Institute, where he was able to sustain her with the medical technology available. Apparently, she had contracted a mutated disease from one of the experimental molerats she fought off in Vault 81, where she had found Curie. As long as Madison remained perfectly strong and healthy, the disease didn’t affect her, lying dormant in her system. But when she got pregnant, and her body was thrown off and weakened by the whole process, the disease began to spread and grow stronger. It was during Jack’s birth that it finally attacked, devastating her substantially weakened immune system and bringing her to the brink of death.

Doctor Volkert was able to rid her of the disease at the Institute, but even then, her immune system had taken critical amounts of damage, and she was guaranteed to fall deathly ill with something even as simple as the common cold should she return to the surface. So Madison had no choice but to remain in the Institute, slowly rebuilding her immune system with specially engineered strands of diseases and viruses found in the Commonwealth. There were times in which she would show great improvement, and was allowed to return home, but each time she fell very ill within about a week, and had to return once more to continue her treatment. Jack, too, needed to be kept an eye on, since he was exposed to the molerat disease while in the womb. In just over a year, the boy had been to the Institute a total of five times, each time brought to and from by his Uncle X, and given a thorough checkup by Doctor Volkert.

Now, Madison’s tests showed her to be completely unaffected by most all diseases and viruses at full Commonwealth strength. She _knew_ that’s what the doctor’s clipboard told him, but she had to wait for him to come to a decision on his own. She fidgeted endlessly in her seat, trying to draw some peace from the statue-like Courser who sat beside her, face unreadable behind his sunglasses. But she knew his little quirks by now: the dimple that showed when his jaw was clenched, the way he drew his elbows uncomfortably into his sides, the way his nostrils flared when he breathed, forcing each breath to be identical to the last… he was just as anxious as she was. Finally, Doctor Volkert let out an exhausted sigh.

“It seems you’re free to go. But listen carefully: if you get sick at all, even a little cough or a case of the sniffles, you come right back here and get checked out. Understood?”

“That’s ‘understood, Director?’ to you, Doctor Volkert!” She glared, only half kidding around.

“Director, please…”

“I will make sure it happens, Doctor,” X6 answered for his Director, knowing that if anyone was going to be responsible for Madison’s safety, it was going to be him.

“Right,” the doctor nodded, setting aside his clipboard. “Then that’s that.”

Madison and X6 wasted absolutely no time using the relay to return home. The moment their feet reappeared on the island hill, the Director hugged her Courser as tight as she could, beyond grateful for his help in both saving her life and ensuring the safety and wellbeing of her youngest son. She began to pull away from the hug when, to her great surprise, X6 took her hands into his. She looked up at him curiously, trying to read his thoughts from his straight face. But there was no need. The Courser made his thoughts quite clear when he pulled her in for a kiss. It was very quick, very simple, straight to the point, but it left both of them a blushing mess. Madison stood there, completely off guard, mind spinning. She _knew_ the two of them were close, perhaps to the point where any normal person might attempt to throw in a romantic aspect to the relationship, but that’s just it: X6 is a Courser, the most well-behave, ruthless, and emotionally detached of all Gen 3 synths. Though Madison might have expected the kiss otherwise, she simply didn’t think the Courser protocol would allow X6 to take that step. As for X6-88, he was sure he was malfunctioning, the first thought in his mind to report to the SRB for reprogramming, but that thought was quickly overtaken with the weight of his actions.

“I-I apologize, ma’am…” He managed, voice cracking; hearing it do so, X6 was _positive_ he was malfunctioning.

The Courser realized he was still holding onto his Director’s hands, and went to pull them away. But Madison held on, blushing worse.

“Here…” She said quietly, carefully removing the gloves from the Courser’s hands before placing her hands back into them. “How’s that?”

X6 could do nothing but stare at his own hands, trying to recall the last time he had seen them without gloves. But more importantly, he _felt_ her hands in his, not just as weight and shape, but as _hands_ , warm, soft of the back, the tickle of invisible hairs, calloused and scarred on the bottom, fingers brushing against his palm, the simple motion sending all sorts of jolting sensation up his spine. He swallowed hard, daring to brush his own thumbs over the tops of her hands, marveling at how addicted such a simple action could be.

“One last thing…” Madison mused, freeing her hands gently again to remove his sunglasses from his face, tucking them into his pocket and putting her hands in his once more.

X6 blinked, the sensory receptors in his eyes suddenly going berserk; the sun, the sparkle of the water, the dappled shadows of the trees, the intricate texture of the bark, each individual leaf, each blade of grass on the ground, the collective sway of the plants... He was highly tempted to return the sunglasses to their rightful place on his face when he turned and looked upon his Director. His jaw clenched, blinking several more times before realizing that blinking meant shutting his eyes, and even shutting them for a millisecond from the scene before him was blasphemous. Her flushed skin, her wide pale blue eyes, the pink in her lips, complementing the pink scar cutting diagonally into her eyebrow, each strand of her hair, most a warm brown, but others more golden, others red. He admired the practicality of how her ears jutted out ever slightly more than average, making it easier for her to tuck her hair back behind them, as she always did. X6 was so caught up in her features above the neck, he hardly remembered that anything existed below. And when he did, his rods and cones were overloaded with information once more, and his brain marveled and appreciated each bit of information as it came in.

“You alright there, X?” Madison asked gently, a sheepish smile coming to her face.

The Courser looked at her, taking a moment to process her words due to everything he was already in the middle of processing, but when he finally did, he smiled. And she smiled back, pushing up on her tip-toes to kiss him again. It lasted longer, and the chastity was quickly lost as her hands guided his to her waist before her arms wrapped themselves snuggly around his neck. X6 had no idea how to act in this particular—and, he was finding, rather enjoyable—situation, but despite how overwhelmed he was, his incredible processing ability picked up on his Director’s motions and technique, mirroring them, and improving on them as the kiss lingered on. Madison let out a muffled squeak as X6 suddenly pulled her in close, and the Courser felt a rush of something intoxicating at the sound. Alarm bells began to ring in his head, warning him that the logic emulators in the synth component in his head were being drowned out in the oncoming wave of synthetic hormones. Startled, his hands cupped Madison’s face, gently holding her still as he managed to take control of himself, breaking the kiss slowly. He looked at her face, worried at what expression he might find there, and feeling his heart skip a beat at the look he found. Another intoxicating rush hit him hard, nearly pushing him back into the kiss with renewed vigor, but again he resisted. He tore his eyes away from her face, looking down the hill to see Nick Valentine had come out of the house, the first to spot them on the hill; they were too far off to be seen in great detail, thank goodness. Not sure whether to be relieved or disappointed at the distraction, X6 turned back to his Director.

“It’s the synth detective, ma’am…” He managed to say with reasonable conviction.

Madison’s head snapped to the side, staring at the figure approaching, her mind lagging behind her eyes.

“Oh!” She finally said, shaking herself. “Oh! Okay! X, put your glasses back on. A-And gloves, too!”

The Courser didn’t hesitate to obey, coming back to himself as his hormones backed off, no longer fueled by Madison’s touch or stare. While it was easy for the Courser to return to a normal state, it wasn’t so easy for Madison to wipe the blush off her face. It persisted—grew worse, even—as Valentine met them on the hill.

“Well look who decided to show,” she chuckled, allowing himself a long-overdue hug with her. “How are you feeling? What did the doc say this time?”

Usually, Madison would have indulged whole-heartedly in this moment with Valentine, free from prying eyes. But with her new knowledge of X6’s feelings for her, even something as innocent as a hug felt shameful. And she hated that, because she had been away for so long, unable to see any of her friends, but especially Valentine. And of course, her boys.

“Hey Nicky,” she put on a smile. “Doctor Volkert said I’m off the hook!”

“That’s wonderful!” Valentine’s face nearly split from the huge grin that came across it.

“Yeah, it’s-” She was cut short as the synth surprised her with a kiss, feeling her entire face turn red, though from embarrassment rather than pleasure.

X6-88 stood there rigidly, beyond conflicted at the sight of his Director and her rusting lover. Because he knew that it was _himself_ in the wrong, intruding on their already flowering love. But the less logical, far more emotional part of him declared angrily that he didn’t _care_ who loved her first, because he simply loved her more. Who watched her back in the field? Who supported her in her position of the Institute’s Director? Who was tasked with looking after Jackson Wallace with what was, at the time, her dying breath? Who sat by her side for a year while she recovered inch by inch from that devastating disease? _Him_. Not the decaying pile of scrap metal who dared kissed her now.

It was almost as if Madison could read the Courser’s mind—or rather, she knew how to read his body language—for she broke off the kiss with Valentine, covering up her rejection with excitement.

“I’ve just got to see little Jack!” She said, fidgeting as if she just couldn’t possibly wait any longer.

Normally, Valentine would have read into her words and posture and facial expression a little more, but caught up in his own excitement to have her home, he dismissed anything that may have tipped him off to something being amiss. Instead, he laughed, drawing her in for another brief squeeze before leading her down the hill.

“Right! Gotta put family first!” He smiled, getting no response from the Sole Survivor and deciding to fill the silence with his own small talk. “So, little Jack is rather blonde. Fool around with any blonde guys about, oh I don’t know, twenty-one months ago?”

Madison shrugged it off. “Both my brothers were blonde, so I wouldn’t think much of it.”

Suddenly Valentine fell silent. Brothers. He realized she had never mentioned her family, apart from her late husband and the Shaun she had lost to the Institute’s brainwashing. It all hit Valentine like a ton of bricks, just how great Madison’s loss really was. She didn’t just lose her husband and son when she woke up in the Vault two hundred years later; before the war, she had family, parents, siblings, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins… and probably friends, too, and neighbors… The extent of her loss just grew deeper and deeper the more Valentine dwelled, and he wanted to talk to her about her. Talking about it was sure to make her feel better, if only not quite so lonely. But he looked at her, her anxious and excited expression, and realized it wasn’t the time. The brief mention of her late brothers didn’t seem to sadden her at all; at least, not now.

They got to the house, and the first place Madison went was the side room, where Jack’s crib and baby toys all were. Her face lit up to see him in the crib, staring up at his rocket mobile as he sucked contentedly on his thumb. And the moment her face hovered beside the mobile, Jack’s eyes grew big as saucers and he scrambled to get to his feet. She scooped him up before he had the chance, hugging him as tight as she dared, tears starting to roll down her cheeks and dampen his silky platinum blonde hair.

“Hey Jack…” Madison managed in a voice shaking with emotion. “Did you miss me much?”

Jack clung to his mother, desperate not to see her go again, lower lip trembling as his eyes grew watery and he blinked back tears. He didn’t let go when the others found his mother to be home and met her with hugs and warm greetings. He didn’t let go when she rocked him while the last rays of the day glinted red on the horizon before succumbing to the dusk. He didn’t let go despite his eyelids growing heavy and yawns bombarding him. Even after he had fallen fast asleep, Madison had to gently pry his little hands from the fabric of her shirt, smoothing out his hair and smiling as it curled back on its own. She planted a gentle kiss on his forehead before donning a coat. Once she was sure no one was watching, she hurried down the hill the house sat on and went to the docks, getting in a row boat and making her way to shore.

The boat docked back at the island just before dawn readied to grace the horizon with glittering rays of gold. Cautiously, she slipping in the back door, tip-toed up the stairs to avoid detection by Nick Valentine at the bar, and slid into bed; no one could have known she had been gone at all. It was just how she planned.


	15. Do You Have A Geiger Counter?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deacon is snooping around near the Minutemen Castle, when he finds a surprise he didn't expect.

The Commonwealth had become a lonely place for Deacon, who strolled casually along a churned up concrete road in the last hour before dawn, hands in his jean pockets as he concentrated on kicking the small rock in front of him, watching distractedly as it would bounce away at the kick of his foot and await his arrival just up the road so the process could repeat. His mind couldn’t help but wander to what he considered the last carefree days of his life, the time he had spent with Madison—Agent Wanderer—being the golden duo of the Railroad and taking the ‘Wealth by storm. He thought back to the last time he had seen her face without feeling a blinding hatred towards her: it was when she came into HQ, very much distracted, urgent, verging on panic. She had killed a Courser, the bruised and bloodied state of her person said as much, and Deacon had worried at the sight of her and her deer-in-headlights eyes that she had taken one too many blows to the head. Not only had she killed a Courser, she had stammered, but she had taken it’s Courser chip, and procured the blueprints needed to build a molecular relay to transport her to the Institute. The mere mention of travelling to the Institute, with no certain way of returning home, terrified Deacon more than he was willing to admit at the time. But his opinion was drowned out by Desdemona’s whole-hearted agreement to the haphazard plan, and Madison’s blind determination to find her son and reunite the family she had lost.

He waited for her for a month, and he still blamed himself for not doing more reconnaissance in place of his pointless nail-biting and ‘what-if’ing. If he had only been out in the field, had known about Libertalia, maybe, just maybe, he could have prevented the massacre at Bunker Hill, talked some sense into his only friend, pulled her away from her son just long enough for her to think straight again. If he had only tried one more time to convince Des and the others that they shouldn’t blacklist Madison, that what she really needed was help, not the cold shoulder. And if only he had been awake when the slaughter at HQ had taken place, maybe, just maybe, he could have talked her down then, too. But that’s not what happened.

Deacon remembered waking up to screams and deafening gunfire, scrambling to get his feet on the ground and a gun in his hand when a blinding pain burst from the back of his skull and he was knocked into blissful unconsciousness. When he awoke, he found all his friends, every last agent at the headquarters, slaughtered, the walls of the church basement painted red with their blood. And he alone was left to carry the guilt, the shame, and most of all the anger, and lust for revenge. Everywhere he went, her voice was on the radio, mocking him, speaking of how the Institute was “here to help”. Diamond City wasn’t safe for him anymore, with the Institute flag flying in three separate places and Gen 1’s snooping through the streets. For Deacon wasn’t about to give up the Railroad and its noble goals. Just because the HQ had been cut down didn’t mean the Railroad had fallen apart. Deacon knew every last tourist in commission, knew all the agents and safehouses—old and new—and where to find them. He didn’t dare go near the safehouses that he and Madison had established as a team; he was sure they were crawling with synths looking to take his head. Instead, Deacon decided to lay low in Goodneighbor for a while. With their mayor Hancock still “taking a walk”, the people of the hodgepodge settlement stuck to hating the Institute and accepting all outcasts, which meant that Deacon was about as welcome as they come.

He thought back to when her voice crackled back through the radio speakers, no longer propaganda for the Institute, but an invitation; she was bringing about major changes to the Institute, she said, and she wanted all who were interested to show for the speech. She even offered up protection to those who would be traveling to attend the speech. Deacon went, of course, going back and forth between attempting an assassination and just going for the intel, landing with a little disappointment on the latter. The speech was what he expected it to be, right up until the part where she began to personally apologize for what she had done to him, to the Railroad. Deacon simply couldn’t take that—whether it was genuine or mockery, it didn’t matter. He left the Castle, and didn’t look back.

Now, things were coming along for the Railroad. Deacon had found and secured a new headquarters, and was working to weed out his remaining agents to invite only the most loyal and dedicated to the HQ; it was hard to trust anyone after being betrayed by his one and only friend. The level of secrecy had just about doubled overnight: codenames, secret phrases, counter phrases, a plethora of insightful hand gestures, passwords, counter passwords… even his handshake was starting to catch on. It was knowing that the roots of the Railroad had been examined fortified that Deacon found himself back out in the field, doing what he did best: watching and learning. This hour before dawn was always his favorite, for no one was awake, not even the raiders, and it allowed Deacon to walk the streets like a man might have done before the war. If he _really_ had his way, he would be able to whistle while he walked, but unfortunately things weren’t _exactly_ like pre-war times.

He checked his surroundings, and noted the he was about to pass by a rail sign; this one in particular made him both bitter and weary. It had been made by Madison, _that_ Deacon didn’t doubt; the island that she and her buddies had inhabited was just a short boat-ride into the ocean, which met land not very far from where Deacon found himself. The rail sign had showed up only a few months ago, depicting a plus sign inside the usual Railroad rays orbiting around it. _Ally_. He wasn’t sure what she wanted from him in placing the sign, but the moment he had seen it, he had fled halfway across the Commonwealth. It was only now, months later, that he felt reassured nothing would come of the sign if he passed by it. He looked to the sign as it came into view, and heard his feet scrape the pavement before he realized he had come to a sudden halt. There, staring at the rail sign on the crumbling shack wall, was a tiny boy, not possibly older than two.

A million questions rushed through Deacon’s head as he slowly approached the boy, not wanting to spook him. He stopped dead again when the boy turned away from the rail sign and looked at him, sucking on his thumb and blinking his pale blue-green eyes, curly platinum blonde hair long enough to fall down into the tops of those curious eyes. And from what Deacon could tell, the boy was unafraid.

“Hey there pal,” Deacon offered a disarming smile as he got closer. “What are you doing out here all by yourself?”

The boy didn’t answer, blinking his eyes again and continuing to suck contentedly on his thumb. Deacon crouched down and held out his arms to the boy, and the small child walked over—a little wobbly—into his arms. Deacon smiled, bouncing the kid gently. He knew instantly the boy wasn’t an orphan, just based on his exceeding cleanliness and lack of fear for strangers. With this in mind, Deacon knew the boy couldn’t have gotten far from whomever claimed him as their own; he probably had woken up before them and wandered off. So Deacon sat with his back to the wall that the rail sign was painted to, tickling the kid sitting in his lap.

“The Railroad could use agents like you, buddy boy,” he smiled, heart melting at the sight of the kid’s bashful blushing. “But first you need a codename. All the greats had really cool codenames. What to call you…”

Deacon fell into a moment of thoughtful silence. “How about Twinkle Toes? Do you like that?”

He sat in anticipatory silence as he waited for the boy’s response. The kid stared up at his exaggeratedly serious face and broke out in a grin. Deacon matched the expression. “Twinkle Toes it is!”

A little while passed, just Deacon and the newly dubbed Agent Twinkle Toes. Deacon couldn’t help but relish his time with the wonderfully behaved boy, having always wanted kids of his own, but never having the heart to remarry after what happened to his Barbara way back when. He had fooled around a bit with Madison when the two of them got drunk after successful Railroad missions, but she fooled around with just about anyone when she was drunk, so he never thought much of it. Besides, Deacon wasn’t sure he had the right to bring a kid into the world. What kind of father would he be if he wasn’t even sure who he was anymore? Still, he had quite a soft spot for kids in his heart, and Agent Twinkle Toes in particular was he always imagined the perfect kid would be: a little mischievous, a little angelic, and one hell of a cutie.

“So who are we waiting for, Twinkle Toes?” Deacon asked his small friend as the boy let out a huge yawn. “Mom? Dad? Aunt? Uncle? Grandparent? Random kind stranger? Aliens? A super mutant couple, maybe?” His thoughts suddenly grew a bit grim. “It’s not slavers, is it? Tell me, Twinkle Toes, were you headed for Capital Wasteland?”

The small boy didn’t answer, leaning back into Deacon and popping his thumb in his mouth, eyelids starting to droop as he made himself comfortable. Deacon smiled softly, running a gentle hand through the boy’s curly hair and watching as the curls sprang back into place.

“Alright, guess I’ll just have to wait and see,” Deacon sighed. “In the meantime, want to hear some stories?”

At the mention of stories, the boy’s eyes reopened again with a renewed desire to be awake, looking up at Deacon expectantly. Deacon laughed a little.

“Did I ever tell you about the time Insingle-handedly saved a dozen synths from the clutches of at least a hundred Institute soldiers?”

Agent Twinkle Toes shook his head, causing Deacon to grin. “Well then you’re in for a treat, pal!”

They sat like that for at least an hour, maybe more, just Deacon rambling on about exaggerated stories and the little boy listening intently. And the longer the two of them went without any sign of anyone looking for Agent Twinkle Toes, the more tempted Deacon was to claim the kid as his own and take him back to HQ. He had visions of the two of them taking down the Institute, and Deacon laughed out loud at the thought of the tiny boy holding a tiny little minigun and wearing tiny little sunglasses. It was ridiculous. As much as Deacon was willing to attempt it, raising a kid and trying to run a secret, dangerous organization just weren’t two things that mixed well. And so he kept waiting for someone to find the kid, despite the threat that Madison or her Institute-loving goons may find him considering they were so close to Spectacle Island.

Finally, they heard it: a voice, calling out into the quiet morning, worried, scared. Deacon sighed to himself, hoisting his little agent up onto his shoulders and making his way to the voice, weaving through the alleys of the crumbling beachside town. He turned a corner and nearly ran smack into the person he was looking for, the both of them staring in shock.

“Deacon!?”

“Oh no…”

It was Madison. Of all the horrible things that could have happened to him today…

“You’re alive! Oh thank god!” She hugged him. Hugged him and cried.

Deacon didn’t see that coming. He expected her to shoot him. Maybe curse him out at best. But hug him? It came completely out of left field.

“I-I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for-… for-… forever! I left rail signs a-and the Minutemen were supposed to have been keeping an eye out for you, a-and-…” She cut herself short as two little hand patted her head, and she looked up to find little Agent Twinkle Toes beaming down at her.

“Jack!” She sobbed in relief, hugging the boy close as Deacon lowered him off his shoulder and handed him over. “I was so worried about you, you little scamp!”

“So this one’s yours…?” Deacon finally managed to say, not sure what he was feeling.

“Yeah,” Madison looked up at him with a smile, holding her boy on her hip. “This is Jack. Well, Jackson Wallace, but everyone back home just calls him Jack.”

“He’s a real keeper,” Deacon put on a strained smile. “His dad’s a real lucky guy.”

“Yeah…” Madison said, voice trailing off as she dropped her eyes. “He is…”

“So, how’s, uh… how’s the Institute gig treating you?” Deacon rubbed the back of his head awkwardly.

“Oh, you know,” Madison shrugged, just as awkward. “It’s been rough. But things are shaping up…”

Deacon cleared his throat. “Heard about that new synth program you started…”

“Yeah… I mean, synths are people, so…”

“Yeah…”

“And the Railroad? I mean, sorry about-… about HQ and all…”

“No, no… I know… and yeah, it’s-… going…”

“Good…”

“Yeah…”

“Deacon…?” Her voice came out small and unsure.

“Yeah..?” He looked at her, tickling Jack’s belly idly.

“You really should stop by the island more often… we’d love to have you visit… and you and Jack really seem to have hit it off…”

“I might,” Deacon shrugged, eyeing the happy boy with a growing sadness.

Madison nodded, having nothing else to persuade Deacon with. A minute of silence later, she spoke back up.

“We ought to be heading back…”

“Right” Deacon said, shifting his footing. “You do that. I’ve got places to be, anyways…”

“Right…” Madison nodded, shuffling past him. “It was nice seeing you Deacon. Really, it was.”

“Yeah, you too…” He said as he began to walk away. “Take care of my little pal for me.”

“I will, I promise,” she called back as she rounded the corner and disappeared from sight.

As Madison walked down the ruined pavement, Jack looked over her shoulder, expectant, waiting to see Deacon following them. When he didn’t, he rested his chin of his mother’s shoulder sadly, taking his thumb from his mouth.

“Bye bye…” he whispered softly; it was the first thing he had ever said.


	16. What Happens in Goodneighbior Stays in Goodneighbor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A casual day on the island leads to a special night out in Goodneighbor.

It was a quiet night on the island, like most nights: the soft hiss of the ocean lapping to shore, the rustle of the leaves on the trees, the faint echo of something exploding on the mainland... And like most nights, Jack woke up in the middle of it, wiping tears from his face. Silently, he climbed out of his crib with ease, the quiet pitter-patter of his feet as he ran carefully for the stairs, climbing up them on hands and knees. He reached the top, blinking in the darkness, eyeing straining to scan the row of beds lined against the wall, where everyone was sleeping peacefully. He spotted Madison, away from the others, curled up with MacCready on two mattresses atop an old bedframe, snuggled close to the ex-mercenaries chest, his arms tangled around her. But Jack kept looking. He finally spotted who he was looking for, tip-toeing over to the bed. Hancock lay with his mouth wide open, snoring quietly as he drooled onto his pillow, out cold. Jack eyed the ghoul expectantly, giving his arm a shake.

“Uncle Hancock,” he whispered, watching as the ghoul stirred at the sound of his timid voice.

Hancock blinked his eyes halfway open, focusing on the mop of curly blonde hair and the reddened pale eyes.

“I had a nightmare…” Jack said, sniffling as his lip began to tremble.

“C’mere…” Hancock sighed, his voice extra raspy from sleep, making room for the small toddler on the bed.

Jack climbed into the ghoul’s bed, smiling as Hancock wrapped his arm around him, drawing him in close. Hancock was out like a light within the minute, but Jack lay awake, gently running a finger over Hancock’s bare chest, admiring how different it was. With a contented sigh, the toddler snuggled into the crook of the ghoul’s arm and curled up in a ball, falling fast asleep into a restful and dreamless sleep.

When Hancock finally squinted awake, the sun was shining through cracks in the makeshift roof, hitting his eyes. Growling, he rolled out of bed, lazily beginning to dress himself. Pants, shirt, boots, flag belt, vest, chest belt… he looked all around, but his hat and coat were missing. Muttering darkly to himself about all the horrible things he was going to do to whoever was pulling this prank on him, he went downstairs, where only Nick Valentine was left smoking at the bar.

“No hat and jacket today, Mr. Mayor?” The synth detective smiled cheekily.

“Shouldn’t you be out working, Nicky?” Hancock grumbled bitterly.

“It’s my day to babysit,” Valentine protested with a chuckle. “By the way, I believe I saw your clothes run off into the garage.”

Huffing a sigh, Hancock marched out of the house and crossed over to the garage. Inside, three-year-old Jack was standing on a workbench, wearing the hat that stayed on his head pretty well due to the excessive mop of curly hair on his head, and the ridiculously oversized coat that swallowed his arms and body whole. The toddler glared sternly at thirteen-year-old Shaun and eight-year-old Duncan, who stood by and listened to their little brother’s speech.

“As Mayor of the garage,” Jack growled, a little bit of a lisp coming through as he focused more on volume than pronunciation. “I proclaim that we never have to do chores and we get to eat snackie cakes whenever we want!”

“Here here!” Shaun laughed.

“I like how this guy thinks,” Duncan was applauding with exaggerated enthusiasm, playing along very seriously. “Three cheers for Mayor Jack! Hip hip!”

“Hooray,” Hancock answered from his spot in the doorway, leaning there with heavily subsided anger on his face.

“Uh oh!” Jack gulped, looking in an overzealous panic to his subjects. “Protect your mayor!”

“You heard the man, Shaun!” Duncan growled, picking up a wrench from the workbench. “Charge!”

Hancock rolled his eyes as the boy came running at him with his weapon, easily side-stepping and taking the wrench as Duncan zoomed right past. He began walking towards little Jack, when Shaun slid down on one knee and pointed his gun-shaped hand at him. Hancock had to dodge the imaginary bullets, pointing his own imaginary gun at the synth boy and shooting. Shaun collapsed with a dramatic gasp.

Hancock turned and found Jack had climbed down from the workbench and was running for the door. The ghoul easily scooped up the toddler and began to tickle him fiercely on the floor.

“I give! I give!” Jack squealed, putting up his hands. “No more, Uncle Hancock! No more!”

“That’s what I thought,” Hancock growled, unable to help but grin. “I’ll have my hat and jacket back, little Mr. Mayor!”

Jack grinned his gap-toothed smile, pulling the tricorn hat from his head and placing it meticulously onto the ghoul’s bald head, standing and letting the coat fall off him, handing it over. Hancock shrugged into the coat.

“What got into you, huh? Stealing my clothes! Your mama tells you that stealing is bad, little man.”

Jack blushed bashfully, bowing his head and looking up at the ghoul with big puppy eyes. “I just wanted to be a mayor, like you Uncle Hancock. So I… _borrowed_ your mayor clothes. I was gonna give ‘em back, promise!”

Hancock couldn’t be stern with his favorite little buddy, scooping him up and walking out of the garage, stepping over the carnage that was Shaun. “Mayor, huh? Well hate to break it to ya, but my clothes aren’t exactly the most mayoral getup out there.”

Jack pondered this a while, but then smiled. “I don’t care. I like ‘em. I think they’re perfect mayor clothes, Uncle Hancock!”

Hancock laughed, pinching the boy’s nose playfully. “No one likes a kiss-up, little man.”

“You do,” Jack giggled, freckled face turning a happy shade of pink.

“Yeah, you’re right,” the ghoul grinned, ruffling the excessive amount of blonde curls fondly.

Hancock looked back, spotting Shaun and Duncan trying to sneak away. “Hold up, you two. Don’t you have to feed the Brahmin?”

“Aww come on, Uncle Hancock!” Duncan huffed, putting on an exaggerated pouty face.

“Yeah, Uncle Hancock!” Shaun added, trying to appeal his case in an adult-like manor. “Duncan and I were going to practice our shooting.”

“Oh, all right!” Hancock shook his head with a smile. “But if the circuitboard catches you, I wasn’t involved!”

 “You got it!” Duncan winked cheekily, grabbing a hold of Shaun and taking off down the hill towards the docks.

Hancock looked to the toddler in his arms. “What are they really up to?”

Jack blushed a darker shade of pink. “No one likes a kiss-up, Uncle Hancock!”

Hancock sighed. “Fair enough. Let’s just hope they get home in one piece.”

Like always, it was a long day. Everyone took turns tending the crops and patrolling the island and giving maintenance to the turrets and water purifiers. And like always, Jack ran around, giggling up a storm and keeping everyone in a good mood with his little hugs and innocent shenanigans. At some point, he went picking flowers from the far side of the island, and brought them back to put in everyone’s hair. Even Cait accepted her gift gracefully, and argued that she looked even _more_ intimidating thanks to the blood-red tulip in her hair. Though the day was about as normal as they come, everyone was looking forward to this particular day coming to a close. Tonight, they had plans to visit Goodneighbor and spend the night dancing and drinking and have a good time in general. Codsworth and Strong were more than happy to stay home and watch after the kids. Madison was talking a mile a minute about how excited she was to see X6 drunk, while her Courser quietly tended to his tatos, having no comment on the matter. Everyone agreed that a drunken X6 was sure to be the highlight of the night.

Madison rang the bell to call everyone home early, satisfied with the work that had gotten done. Dinner was cooked up, tonight being stew night, which meant a little bit of everything was tossed in a pot and left to concoct into a passable dish. This time, the stew was particularly good, as Shaun and Duncan had snuck off to the mainland and scavenged the abandoned houses for canned food and spices and anything else of use. Having returned safely, Madison praised them instead of getting latently angry, ruffling hair on her boys left and right until the two of them sulked off to avoid ruining their hair any worse. Everyone sat around on the couches, eating their stew in hungry silence, every last one of them excited to get to Goodneighbor and live it up. Jack chased Shaun and Duncan around the house, growling fiercely; the three of them always finished eating the earliest. The older boys were laughing up a storm, finally hiding on either side of a doorway, catching their little brother in a blanket as he came dashing through the door. Madison smiled at them.

“Gee, don’t you three have any fun?” She joked, pulling Shaun and Duncan to her in a headlock.

“No, we just work all day,” Shaun teased back, knowing to tickle his mother in the ribs, causing her to squirm and inadvertently free the two boys.

“You little stinker!” She laughed, assaulting her synth son with tickles under his arms, sending him skirting away from her in a fit of giggles.

“Yeah mom! What gives? You’re gonna work us poor children into the ground!” Duncan snickered, standing confidently still as his adoptive mother tried to tickle him all over unsuccessfully.

She looked him in the eye with a fake glare. “Complain one more time and you’ll be working twice as hard!”

Duncan grinned and ran up, kissing her cheek swiftly before returning to where he was before. Madison smiled, pulling him into a hug and leaning down to kiss his nose.

“Hey, I love you two. You know that, right?”

“Wait, since when?” Duncan looked up at her with wide, surprised eyes, which quickly fell away to an impish grin as Madison pushed him away gently by his face. “Just kidding! Love you too, Mom!”

“Love you too,” Shaun smiled from where he was freeing little Jack from the blanket.

“And you little deathclaw!” Madison scoop Jack up, showering his face in kisses. “I love you too!”

“Mommy, why are you leaving?” Jack asked with big sad eyes.

“Aww, baby,” she pulled him close. “Your friends and I are just going out to have fun. We’ll be back tomorrow.”

“It’s your mama’s birthday,” Valentine smiled from where he had shown up in the doorway. “Do you remember _your_ birthday, Jack? How we had a big party and had lots of fun?”

Jack nodded, popping a thumb into his mouth and speaking around it. “You gonna have lots of fun for mama?”

“Yes we are, angel,” Madison smiled, planting a kiss on his forehead before setting him down. “But that doesn’t mean you three can’t have fun while we’re gone. Just be good for Mr. Codsworth and Strong. And you go to bed when you’re told, you here?”

“Yes mummy,” Jack nodded.

“Yes mom!” Shaun and Duncan chimed, smiling innocently.

Madison went around and delivered one more round of kisses to her boys before ducking out of the room with Valentine, heading for the docks where the rest of the companions were already waiting.

It was dark by the time the gang reached Goodneighbor, and everyone was already a bit heady from the whiskey Hancock had snuck and been passing around. Madison smiled at Valentine as they reached the doors to the town, pulling a flask from her leather jacket.

“Here, big guy,” she smiled, putting the flask into the detective’s hands. “I know alcohol doesn’t affect you, so I had some of my cooler Institute scientists whip this stuff up. If what they tell me is true, that’ll mix in with your coolant and affect your head same as alcohol does to humans. Cool, huh?”

“Aren’t I supposed to keep an eye on the rest of you?” Valentine asked, unsure.

Madison rolled her eyes, punching Valentine’s shoulder playfully. “It’s my birthday, Nicky! Have fun for once! We’ll be fine!”

“Alright, alright,” he relented, taking a sip of the concoction in the flask and pulling a face at the bitter motor-oil taste. “How many of these things did they give you?”

Madison unzipped her coat and looked inside, which was lined with flasks. “Umm…. ten-ish?”

Valentine chuckled. “And I don’t suppose you expect me to get through all of them, do you?”

“Well if you do, there’s money in it for yeah,” she whispered deviously, dropping her voice. “You see, I got this bet going with Hancock that you _could_ drink them all. He says you can’t. And then MacCready said you couldn’t either. But Cait put money down that you could… let’s just say after all bets were placed, a small fortune ended up on the line!”

“Well when you put it that way,” Valentine grinned mischievously, downing the rest of the flask, much to Madison’s delighted giggles.

The synth detective swayed a little. “Oh boy… I’m feeling that, alright!”

“Doing alright there, Nicky?” Hancock called from his place at the back of the gang.

“He’s doing great, Hancock!” Madison called back fiercely, throwing an arm around the detective’s shoulders to steady him.

“Oi!” Cait called. “How old you turning, Mads?”

“Twenty-six. Well, technically, two-hundred and _thirty_ -six...” she smiled back at her friend, catching the impish look on Cait’s face.

“Well then you need to down twenty-six drinks before the night’s out!”

“No way!” Madison went wide-eyed amidst a mixture of hearty agreement and horrified disagreement. “I haven’t been drinking since I was pregnant with Jack! You gotta go easy on me, Cait!”

“No easier way to get back to drinkin’ than to just go all in!”

They entered Goodneighbor, and the rowdiness of their argument as well as the size of their group turned heads. Madison, aware that both the Institute and her were highly disliked in the town, ducked back into the middle of her friends, where X6 in his civilian leatherman jacket and jeans took to her side. Hancock easily skipped up to the head of the group, and the sight of their mayor helped smooth the worries his people were having at his intimidating and raucous bunch of friends.

Once they descended into The Third Rail, the celebration began with a bang. Whitechapel Charlie served the first three round of shots before five minutes had even passed, then larger, stronger drinks ended up on the bar as the company quickly grew tipsy, and some even drunk. Madison was busy egging X6 on to try his drink when Hancock whipped out the chems. Valentine had hammered through three of his quota of ten flasks when he began cracking really terrible knock knock jokes, and had everyone on the floor laughing, aside from Danse and X6 who didn’t quite get the humor. An hour later found them all hammered. X6 was staring at his empty drink in an amazed stupor; Hancock and Valentine were both entirely caught up in all the gaps in the detective’s synthetic skin; MacCready and Danse were sprawled on a couch together, going back and forth sharing slurred stories, trying to decide who had killed the most things in their lifetime; Curie was chatting the ear off of Preston, who had long since passed out in an armchair; at the bar, Piper and Cait were very focused on their conversation to brainstorm the best title for an article that had ever been thought up, leaning on each other and giggling at the slightest little things. And Madison was gone.

After a little while longer, Whitechapel Charlie realized he was missing a customer who hadn’t paid the tab, and approached Valentine and Hancock on the subject.

“Hate to break it to you, Mayor, but your girl seems to have skipped out on ya.”

“Talk sense, Charlie!” Hancock whined, but the reality of it hit Valentine like a wall.

“Madison? She’s gone?” He looked around, suddenly dumping the ghoul from his lap as he scoured the club for a sign of her, Hancock pouting at the bar and popping mentats.

“MacCready,” Valentine stumbled over, leaning on the couch for support. “Madison. Have you seen her?”

“Hmm?” MacCready blinked, smiling lazily. “No, don’t think so.”

“X,” Valentine shook the Courser from where he had passed out sitting up.

“It’s none of your business…!!” X6 mumbled almost incoherently as his head snapped back up, blinking heavily.

“Hey! Where’s Madison?” Valentine asked, not thinking straight.

X6 looked around. “She’s right-…” He frowned as he failed to locate her in the bar, placing a heavy hand on the bar as he got to his feet.

In an instant, the Courser had two fistfuls of Valentine’s jacket, face flushing with anger, confusion, and fear. “What did you do to her unit!?”

“Nothing! Get off me!” Valentine only had to shove minimally on the Courser before the poor guy nearly fell to the floor; Valentine turned back to Hancock. “Hancock!”

“Yes detective?” the ghoul purred raspily.

Valentine glared, feeling his face grow warm, trying unsuccessfully to remember what he and Hancock were doing before Whitechapel Charlie interrupted, then focusing once more on the matter at hand. “Madison’s missing!!”

“What? Is she looking for me?” Hancock grinned suggestively, tugging on either side of his jacket in bravado.

MacCready’s face turned red and angry as he launched himself from the couch. “Hey!! You watch yourself ghoul!” He nearly fell back into the couch but instead swayed and caught a hold of Danse’s shoulder, anchoring himself.

“What?” Hancock shrugged innocently, tongue pressed to his teeth as he grinned. “She’s hot.”

“Enough out of you, Hancock!!” Valentine snapped, feeling his own fists clench tightly at his sides. “Look, you all stay here. I’ll find her.”

“I’ll come, Nicky,” Cait offered from her spot at the bar beside Piper. “I’m not nearly as smashed as the rest of these idiots.” She proved her statement by hoisting herself from the chair and standing there, unsupported, steady as a hammer.

“Fine,” Valentine agreed, still in something of a haze himself, unsure whether his feet would truly land one in front of the other. “Let’s go. Oh, and Charlie?” Valentine eyed the bartender. “If anyone kills Hancock, the tab isn’t getting paid. Is that clear?”

“Quite,” the robot sulked.

The search began when Valentine finally made it up the stairs, with a little support from Cait’s freckled shoulder.

“Ham,” the detective panted. “Madison… did you see her…?”

“Yeah, she stumbled out of here a while ago. I was gonna stop her, but she looked like she needed some space…”

“What do you mean?” Cait eyed the bouncer.

Ham shrugged. “Y’know, crying, hugging herself, that sort of thing.”

“Christ,” Cait muttered darkly, pulling Valentine’s arm around her shoulders and hauling the detective out the door and out into the streets of Goodneighbor.

It went on for what seemed like forever, Cait propping Valentine up on a wall or other solid object before hassling just about every last person in Goodneighbor about where Madison had gone. Finally, Cait had only the Memory Den left to search and shakedown, dragging Valentine in with her.

“Alright Valentine, time to shape up,” she huffed, letting the detective wobble on his own two feet. “You’re good at dealin’ with these gals. So deal with ‘em.”

They walked around the corner and into the main room of the Memory Den. Irma was on her couch, as usual, sipping at a glass of wine and reading an issue of La Coiffe. She looked up as the two entered, allowing a polite smile.

“Well hey there, Valentine,” she said in her sultry voice. “Who’s your friend? She looks like you pulled her out of the garbage.”

“Watch yourself, missy, or you’ll be spittin’ blood on that god-awful dress of yours!” Cait growled, crackling her knuckles.

“We’re looking for our friend,” Valentine cut in tensely. “You remember Madison, don’t you Irma?”

“Oh you mean that fresh-faced Institute brat?” Irma remarked spitefully. “Sorry, Valentine, she can’t possibly be _here_. We have a strict ‘no Institute’ policy here at the Memory Den, as you can imagine.”

“Irma? Is something the matter?” Doctor Amari asked as she ascended into the room from the stairs into the basement.

“Oh nothing, doctor. Just these two looking for their little runaway murderer.”

“Insult _me_ all you want, but I swear, if you say _one more_ nasty thing about _her_ -..!!”

Valentine had to physically hold Cait back, which wasn’t easy considering his only partially recovered drunken state. Luckily for him, Cait was more intent on finding their friend than defending Madison with her fists.

“She’s in the back,” Doctor Amari said dryly, nodding to the room in question. “We normally don’t welcome enemies of the Railroad here, but she was far too incoherent for me to kick her out in good conscious.”

Valentine hardly had time to thank the doctor before Cait was dragging him into the back room, finding Madison huddled on the floor, knees drawn to her chest, blinking tears out of her already red and puffy eyes. Cait immediately abandoned the detective to crouch down and check her friend for any injuries or anything that may indicate foul play.

“Hey, what’s with the tears, huh?” Cait asked with a quiet sternness, eyes still roaming her for anything out of the ordinary. “Why’d you leave The Third Rail?”

“You know, it just hit me,” Madison sniffled, voice still slurring; Cait noticed the mostly empty bottle of bourbon tipped over at her feet. “How many people I’ve killed. I-I tried to count them…” She held up her hands. “But I ran outta fingers…” She looked at her own hands, reflecting over her ten fingers. “That’s a lot….”

“Hey, don’t think about it,” Cait frowned, pulling Madison's hands down so as to look her in the eye. “If you hadn’t killed ‘em, they woulda killed you first!”

Madison stared into Cait’s face in shock, then a frown broke through the surprised expression, tears welling up in her eyes again. “No! No you’re wrong! They weren’t gonna kill me… they just told me to leave… Des said ‘leave’ and I killed them!”

Unable to free her hands from Cait’s grasp in her drunken state, Madison simply let her face drop into her hands where they were being held, sobbing uncontrollably. Cait let go of her hands, and instead grasped onto either side of Madison’s face, bringing it back up to look at her.

“It’s done. It’s over. You can’t go back an’ fix it now. So quit cryin’. Just try an’ do better in the future. That’s all you can do.”

“I wanna forget!” She cried helplessly, her choice of destination suddenly making a whole lot more sense. “Please Cait! Let me forget I did that! It _hurts_..!”

“Suck it up!” Cait snapped angrily, pushing the hair from her friend's face. “You have to live with that pain. It reminds you to be better. Warns you not to make the same mistakes. I know it hurts. And as nice as it would be to be rid of it, you gotta keep it around! For your own sake!”

Madison looked like she was going to cry again, her eyebrows drawing in close on her forehead, lower lip sticking out and trembling. But instead, she locked her fingers together behind Cait’s neck and pulled her forward, closing the short gap between their faces and meeting her in a kiss. And it was desperate, and sloppy, and reeked of booze, but Cait didn’t mind, face flushing red as she kissed her back. Valentine stood in shock, realizing quite quickly that this wasn’t the first act of intimacy shared between the two of them. A part of him felt jealous—the more intoxicated part of him, no doubt—but the rest of him knew there was no reason to be. He knew Madison loved him. And she clearly loved Cait, too. And honestly, that was perfectly okay.

Madison broke the kiss, trying to blink back tears unsuccessfully. Cait frowned at her, wiping the tears away with her thumbs.

“Stop that. What do you think your doin’?”

“Sorry…” Madison’s voice came timidly, making a clear effort to shape up.

Cait sighed, helping her to her feet and straightening out all the wrinkles in her disheveled clothes, having to tug one leg of her pants back down from where it had bunched up around her knee, and retie one of her boots. Once done, Cait stepped back to let Madison test her balance, and not an instant later the Sole Survivor nearly faceplanted onto the floor, caught only by Cait’s lightning reflexes.

“Here,” Valentine said, coming over to offer his help.

Between the detective and the former cage-fighter, they were able to support an overly drunken Madison, leading her from the back room and heading for the door.

“My booze…” Madison whimpered softly, realizing that she didn’t have her bourbon in her hand.

“Yeah, I’d say you’ve just about hit your twenty-six drink goal. Let’s call it a night.”

“M’kay…” Madison tried to use her own feet, nearly tripping them all up.

“We’ve got you,” Valentine sighed. “Don’t hurt yourself, doll.”

They headed for the Old State House, the agreed-upon endpoint for the night’s shenanigans. Hancock said they could all crash in his room for the night, and head home in the morning. As Cait and Valentine hauled Madison through the doorway, they found that their friends had all made it to the State House safe and sound, but not one of them had braved the stairs. They were all passed out in the room off to the side of the lobby, on the floor, on couches, on each other. Cait and Valentine casually dumped Hancock off of one of the couches and laid Madison down there. They muttered for her to go to sleep as they themselves got comfortable in the overcrowded room. Cait, used to less than ideal sleeping arrangements, was fast asleep in minutes. Valentine, though feeling the overwhelming need to sleep off the intoxicating effects of Madison’s Institute concoction, already felt responsible for losing Madison, and wasn’t about to lose anyone else on his watch. So instead of resting his eyes, he sat on the spiral stairs of the Old State House, propping his chin on his metal fist, his elbow propped up on his knee, and kept watch over his sleeping friends. But not before dumping the remaining few flasks of the Institute synthetic alcohol, grinning smugly to himself as she artistically littered the now empty flasks around the snoring bodies. He smiled to himself, hardly able to wait for the look of utter shock of Hancock’s face when he wakes to realize he lost his bet.


	17. Saying Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shaun is leaving the island for good, and Madison struggles to cope with the reality of it.

It was a big day. Exciting, but sad. Overwhelmed by it all, Madison sat quietly by herself by the signal transmitter’s mainframe, having made the excuse that she was going to be sure it was all in order. Instead, she stared idly at the buttons and dials and the breaker switch, accompanied by a bottle of rum clasped tightly in her hand. She had worked so hard. She had gone through so much to find a family again in the fallout-torn world she had awoken in over five years ago. And now, after all the hard work, and the sacrifice, and the regret, her family was beginning to drift away.

Shaun had turned fifteen not three months ago. On his birthday, she had pulled him aside after all the festivities, took him up to this very spot in the signal transmitter shed, sat beside him and stared at the sky, then full of stars. And with a deep breath, she proceeded to explain to her eldest son that he wasn’t in fact the baby she had searched for, that it was actually Father who was the real Shaun, and that he, her now fifteen-year-old son, was actually a Gen 3 synth, carrying the same DNA as her real son and made to be a clone of him, only younger. She knew the synth boy had grown to have suspicions, often asking questions about Father and who he was to Madison, questions that the Sole Survivor avoided tactfully. Even Duncan, a little over a year before the reveal, had asked Madison is his big brother was a synth. When he learned the truth, Duncan didn’t mind the least bit, and had kept his promise to keep the secret. But as much as Shaun may have suspected, he wasn’t really ready to hear the truth. Honestly, who ever really is?

After that reveal, Shaun spent an awful lot of time with Danse, talking with the former paladin about when _he_ learned he was a synth. They spoke a lot on the matter, spent a lot of time together in the garage, cleaning up weapons and polishing armor. Shaun spent a lot of time with Nick Valentine as well, whom had had always been very close with. Mostly, Shaun avoided talking with his mother, or at least the woman who he had once thought to be his mother. It broke Madison’s heart, being estranged from her son, and everyone could tell. Ten-year-old Duncan did all he could to cheer all parties back up, bringing his mother flowers and little gifts and egging Shaun into playing their favorite games together, proving to him that he wasn’t any different than before. But the sudden sadness affected five-year-old Jack the most. His mom didn’t smile the same, if at all. She didn’t laugh. She hardly spoke. And as much as everyone else tried to be as cheery as possible around their little buddy, Jack _knew_ they were upset too. And so Jack isolated himself, spending the majority of his time alone, not talking, not smiling, not socializing, just playing in the sand and sulking on the far side of the island.

It took about two months after his birthday and the big reveal before Shaun spoke with Madison again. It was hard for both of them, to be with each other again after spending so long apart, but gradually the bond that had been severed started to regrow. Madison cheered up to have her Shaun back in her life, being her son again, but there was a guilt that had settled into her heart and wouldn’t go away. She didn’t know whether it was a guilt over telling Shaun the truth, or a guilt over not having told him sooner. Nevertheless, it persisted, and never failed to keep her spirits from ever reaching as high as they used to. Madison had hardly had Shaun back for two weeks when he sprung the news on her: he was leaving the island, for good probably, and was going to work as a detective in Diamond City alongside Nick Valentine.

This was why the Sole Survivor was drinking alone in the signal transmitter shed. Because down the hill at the house, her son, her Shaun, was packing his things. And Nick Valentine, the only person who had cared for her unconditionally from the start, was leaving too. It was all happening so fast, Madison thought as she took another difficult gulp of her rum. But what was she going to do? Tell Shaun no and deny him his own adventure, and the job he had been dreaming about since she brought him home? How could she explain to him that she wanted to keep him to herself forever?

Madison quickly brushed a tear from her eyes, knowing she had to keep her composure. After all, she and everyone else were accompanying Shaun and Valentine to Diamond City. If she was going to cry, she’d have to hold out until it was all over…

The Sole Survivor didn’t notice that Valentine had come up the hill, spotting her drinking and holing back tears. The synth detective sighed, heart aching to see the woman he loved having fallen so low. The sight of her reminded him of the time, all those years ago, when Madison was trying to cope with her actions on behalf of the Institute, and cope with the cold realization that there had been absolutely no Shaun left in her brainwashed son, that she had lost him before she ever had a chance to find him. Valentine worried, because before, she had so much to look forward too: settlements to build, a Commonwealth to protect, the synthetic boy she could take home and start a family with. But now, what would cheer her up? Her son was leaving. Duncan already talked a mile a minute about the day he was going to leave the island and be a hero. Her friends still loved her, of course, but there was little they could do to cheer her up anymore. The days were all the same: wake, work, eat, sleep…

“Hey there doll,” Valentine said softly as he walked into her view, sitting beside her on the steps of the shed.

Madison didn’t answer, immediately wrapping her arms around the detective’s chest and pulling him close, sighing as his arms wrapped around her and drew her into his comforting embrace.

“You’ll make sure he gets a proper eight hours of sleep? And three good meals a day? And keeps working on his arithmetic and vocabulary? And stays in one piece?”

Valentine held her tightly, burying his face in her hair. “I promise…”

They sat like that, holding each other tightly, Madison’s face pressed into the detective’s shirt as he breathed in the sweet scent of her hair, for who knows how long. Valentine could have sworn she was shaking.

“Can you make me a promise, pal..?” He said with an edge of humor in his voice; after all these years together, pal meant so much more than it had the day the Sole Survivor’s face had appeared in that round window of Vault 114, his rescuer.

“Anything…” she shifted her head so that her ear was pressed to his chest, listening to the churning of machinery and the steady beat of his synthetic heart.

“Come visit as often as you like. And take care of yourself,” he stressed that last request, adding weight to his words by pulling away just enough to look her in the eyes.

Madison hesitated, and that hesitation is what worried Valentine the most, caused his heart to hurt. To anyone else, the request was simple; who _wouldn’t_ take care of themselves? But for Madison, it was asking a lot, because it was asking her to endure the pain, and to carry on not knowing if it would ever get better.

“Okay, Valentine,” It took all her strength, all her emotional sway, but Madison mustered up a small smile. “I promise.”

“Pinky promise?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

Madison giggled just a little, sticking out her pinky finger. “Pinky promise.”

Valentine beamed proudly at making her laugh, sticking out his own metal pinky and entwining it with hers, holding it there a brief second. Madison sighed, leaning into the detective’s chest as her eyes fell to the ocean lapping the shore below the hill.

“Does he hate me, Nick?” She asked quietly.

“Not at all,” Valentine reassured softly, his intact hand toying gently with her hair, feeling her relax against him. “He’s just emotional. He’s now a teenager, after all. We’ve all been there.”

“We haven’t all be _synth_ teenagers…” Madison mused sadly, that guilt in her heart worming its way into her brief moment of happiness and tainting it.

“Well he’s better off knowing than _not_ knowing,” Valentine said firmly. “If Danse can recover from finding out he’s a synth, of all people who could end up being a synth, then Shaun is sure to be fine.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Madison sighed, tilting her head so as to kiss Valentine’s neck—or at least what was still intact.

Though surprised, Valentine didn’t protest, hands falling from her hair to her hips, fingers boldly venturing up her shirt. More than a little desperate, and unable to help but think that she may never see her unlikely Valentine again, Madison pushed him onto his back and shifted the kiss to his lips, hot and heavy as her hands worked masterfully to disrobe the detective, blushing furiously at his muffled chuckling.

The sun had gotten much higher in the sky when Valentine finally sat up, finding his shirt and shrugging it back onto his shoulders. A small smile came to his face as he felt Madison’s hands on the small on his back, ghosting across his synthetic skin. Pausing in his endeavor to dress himself, he leaned back and trailed kisses down her stomach and the faded stretch marks there. He pulled away again.

“We’ve got to get going,” he said, more for his own sake than anyone else’s.

He worked diligently at the buttons on his ratty old dress shirt, struggling to keeps his eyes on his task as Madison shifted beside him, retrieving her undergarments and putting them back on. Valentine finally allowed himself a lingering glance as she got up and gathered her clothes from off the mainframe of the signal transmitter.

“Gonna miss me, Valentine?” She teased, not having to check to know the synth detective was staring.

Valentine sighed in disbelief, unable to get any real words out of his mouth. Madison turned and smiled at him, clothes held in a ball in his arms.

“Here,” she said as she set them back down, coming over and straddling Valentine’s lap as she worked on the last few buttons he had become too distracted to finish. Valentine knew what was happening, as he allowed himself the guilty pleasure of staring down at her chest as her hands fiddled with his shirt.

“You _know_ I have to go back to Diamond City….” He mumbled, not sounding very convincing.

“Yeah, I know,” she looked up at him with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Just making sure you remember to visit."

She reached up and kissed his jaw before standing and walking back into the shed, grabbing a hold of her clothes and dressing herself, smiling as Valentine continued to dress as well, muttering to himself about women. Once the two of them were finally clothed, they both looked each other over, making sure their clothes weren’t ruffled and everything was on straight—ensuring neither of them looked like they had been fooling around—before walking back to the house together.

Shaun was giving his goodbyes to Strong, who was staying behind on the island. The super mutant placed his huge, heavy hand on the teenager’s head, the fondest gesture he allowed himself.

“Puny human don’t get smashed,” He warned. “Or Strong smash everyone.”

“Don’t worry Strong,” Shaun laughed. “I’ll do the smashing for you! Everyone will fear _this_ puny human!”

Strong growled in approval, not willing to admit how much he already missed the synth boy. He clapped Shaun on the back, nearly sending him flying, before stalking away to patrol the island, eyes a little misty. Shaun laughed again as he regained his balance, turning to face Codsworth, who had floated up behind him.

“Promise you’ll remember to wash up, sir Shaun?”

“Every night, Codsworth!” Shaun smiled fondly at the robot.

Codsworth couldn’t help it, and broke into sobs. “Oh, sir Shaun! It seems like just _yesterday_ I was changing your diapers! To think you’re leaving-..!”

“Don’t worry Codsworth,” Shaun sniffed a little, blinking back tears. “I’ll look after myself. And I’ll be sure to visit…”

“I’m-.. I’m sorry, sir...” Codsworth tried to get a hold of himself. “I’ll just-… make sure you’re not forgetting anything…” And with that, the robot sped off for the house to cry somewhere alone.

Madison could hardly believe the sight of Shaun anymore; he had grown so much! Just taller than her, still combing his hair to one side but every now and again experimenting with a new look, baby face having disappeared as his round cheeks hollowed out to his high cheek bones and turning him handsome. But through it all, his eyes remained the same, a deep green, the eyes of his father. Those eyes looked at her now, and for a split second Madison could have sworn she was looking at Nate, having a brief flashback to the time she had fist met her husband in high school. But the moment past, and Shaun was there smiling.

“Hey Mom,” she greeted in a voice that had turned mature. “How’s the signal transmitter looking? Still in as great shape as it’s always been?”

“You’re awful, Shaun,” Madison sighed, though unable to stay mad as her eldest son met her in a bear hug, crushing her beneath his newfound strength.

“Love you too,” Shaun grinned, letting go of his mother. “So uh… Mom… since I’m going to an independent man now, if Uncle Nick just _happens_ to have some bourbon laying around, and we’ve just finished up a _really_ tough case… could I, you know... drink?”

Madison laughed, reaching up to ruffle her son’s hair. “I’m warning you Shaun, you’re not gonna like it.”

“But I _can_ drink?” He said excitedly, voice cracking just a little.

Madison scrunched her face up seriously. “I’m going to leave that decision up to your Uncle Nicky.”

“Oh boy,” Valentine sighed, feeling himself fall into the trap, Shaun’s eager eyes turning to him as Madison’s calculating stare burned a hole in him. “We’ll have to see just _how_ tough that case is, Shaun…”

“Right, Uncle _Nicky_ ,” Shaun winked, smiling hugely at the distasteful grumbling that came from the detective.

“Grab your things Shaun,” Madison shooed the teenager with a hand. “Or we’re not going to make it home before dark.”

“Yeah, of course!” Shaun smiled, looking around. “Yo Duncanator! Come help me with my bags!”

“Coming Shaunster!” Duncan called from the roof of the garage, where he had been shooting spit-wads at very confused Hancock.

Duncan easily slid off the roof and rolled into the landing, coming out of the roll at a full sprint into the house, right behind Shaun. Madison laughed at their shenanigans, looking around. “Where’s baby Jack?”

It took Madison a few minutes, but she found the five-year-old down at the west beach, drawing pictures in the sand with a stick. Mop of pale blonde hair curling every which way atop his head, freckles crowded on his face, shoulders, arms, legs, back, belly, and pastel blue-green eyes focused on the design in the sand. She crouched beside him, giving him a kiss on the temple.

“We’re getting ready to go, sweetie,” she said softly, eye trailing to his drawing in the sand. “Are you excited? You’re first time in the Commonwealth!”

“Yeah, I guess,” Jack said quietly, finishing his drawing; it was his family, as stick figures: Madison, MacCready with Duncan, Shaun, and himself. “Mommy, is my daddy the same as Shaun’s daddy? He doesn’t have one, either…”

Madison sighed, pulling her youngest into a hug. “No sweetie. But just like you, Shaun has one big family here. He doesn’t need to know his real dad, and neither do you…”

“Okay…” Jack’s voice got quieter, and after a brief moment of thought, he scribbled out his drawing in the sand angrily, pulling away from Madison’s embrace and sulking back towards the house.

“Why’d you do that, Jack?” Madison asked, sounding hurt as she straightened up to follow her son.

Jack shrugged, refusing to answer. Knowing better than to persist, Madison sighed heavily and let the matter drop, following him back to the house. Shaun and Duncan had gotten the former’s luggage into the rowboats, and everyone was piling in the boats for the trip to Diamond City, even Hancock. The ghoul spotted Jack, and met with the sulking boy.

“Hey little man,” he said, able to read the boy’s emotions like a book. “You sure you wanna go? Because if you don’t, I won’t. Diamond City isn’t all it’s cracked up to be anyways.”

Jack sighed, posture going from tense to defeated as he exhaled. “No, Uncle Hancock. I really do wanna go…”

“Alright Jack,” Hancock offered him a small, reassuring smile, putting his hat onto the boy’s head and pushing it down into his eyes. “Let’s get going then.”

The ghoul’s shenanigans managed to put a small smile onto the boy's freckled face, and Jack righted the hat on his head as he followed the mayor into the boats. Not long after, everyone except Codsworth and Strong—who were staying behind to guard the island—had piled into the boats, and they were rowing for the mainland.

The group took their normal route across the mainland, which was kept clear by regular Minutemen patrols. It didn’t take long for Jack to become absolutely enthralled by everything, especially the buildings all clustered together, creating secret alleyways. He was chatting Hancock’s ear off by the time they were halfway to Diamond City.

“Can we go to your town, Uncle Hancock?” He asked with big, hopeful eyes. “Can we visit Goodneighbor? Is it far? Can I be the mayor for a day? Do I get to wear your hat and coat if I’m mayor? Do you think I’ll be elected as the next mayor after you?”

“Slow down, kid,” Hancock laughed to himself. “You’re getting ahead of yourself, there. We’re just visiting Diamond City today, to move Shaun in. Maybe when you’re a little older you and I will go stay in Goodneighbor for a while.”

“Is it far? From Diamond City, I mean…”

“Nah, not really. But it tends to be a dangerous walk. Lots of raiders and supermutants in the Commons.”

“Supermutants? You mean like Mr. Strong?”

“Yeah, bu nott nearly so nice. These ones will eat you for a snack. And that’s if they don’t splatter you into the pavement first.”

“Oh….” Jack fell into a thoughtful silence, much to Hancock’s relief.

“Hey, but don’t worry, little man,’ Hancock reassured, giving the boy’s hand he was holding a squeeze. “Your mama knows just the right streets to take to get us all there safely.”

“Oh good,” Jack smiled, going back to admiring the buildings, mouth falling open in awe as the buildings got significantly taller.

Safe and sound, the group reached the gates of Diamond City. Motioning for everyone to be quiet, Madison pushed the talk button on the intercom.

“Hey Danny. It’s Madison. Just stopping by the check in on things.”

“Oh! Alright! I’ll open the gate.”

No one had ever seen a face that looked more shocked than Danny Sullivan’s when we opened the gate to find thirteen various grinning faces waiting there. Madison was the first to pass through the gate and head for the stairs.

“Thanks Danny,” she smiled sweetly.

The rest of her friend filed in behind her, greeting Danny in a similar, if not more sarcastic, manner. Jack and Hancock were the last two, and the five-year-old went up to Danny’s window, on his tip-toes to see in.

“Hello, sir,” Jack smiled. “May I ask: do you know the way to Goodneighbor?”

“Uh… y-yeah…”

Hancock stole his hat back from Jack’s head. “Come on Jack. Let’s get going.”

“Never mind! Thank you!” Jack called back to Danny as he followed Hancock down the stairs into Diamond City.

Jack marveled at the city and all the bright lights and the hodgepodge charm of the settlement. When she spotted the two Gen 1 synths in the marketplace, he immediately ran to them.

“You must be Steven and Kyle!” He grinned, sticking out his hand and beaming as the confused synths took it in greeting. “My Uncle X told me all bout you two!”

“These things have names?” Hancock sniffed disdainfully as he followed after his little friend.

“Well not really,” Jack said with a sheepish smile. “But Uncle X nicknamed them. He tells everyone it was my mom who did it, but I know the truth. It was Uncle X.”

“Oh really?” Hancock grinned, already thinking of a hundred different ways to poke fun at the Courser later.

“Come on Uncle Hancock,” Jack said, taking the ghoul’s hand. “Let’s say bye to Shaun.”

“Alright short stack. Let’s go.”

The started to head for the detective agency when one of the Diamond City security guards stopped them.

“There’s no ghouls allowed in Diamond City.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves…” Hancock laughed a little nervously, eyeing the gun shoved in his face.

“Halt!!” A robotic voice called out, one of the Gen 1 synths stepping in. “These two are friends of the Institute, on Institute property. You will let them pass or you will face consequences.”

The Diamond City guard faltered, and Jack eyed the guard dangerously. “My mama’s Coursers will tear you into little bits, mister!”

“Alright alright!” The guard backed off. “Sorry to bother you two…” He was immediately gone.

“Well, thanks Steven, I guess…” Hancock said to the Gen 1 synth, rubbing the back of his head.

“That’s Kyle, Uncle Hancock,” Jack corrected quietly.

The synth said nothing, but continued on its way, just doing its duty of making the Institute’s presence known. Confrontation avoided, Hancock and Jack were able to get to Valentine’s detective agency, finding the tiny space overcrowded, as everyone had managed to squeeze inside. Nick Valentine was introducing his assistant Ellie Perkins to Shaun, and explaining the situation as Duncan and Madison moved Shaun’s two suitcases of stuff to the tiny bedroom.

It wasn’t very long before it was time for goodbyes, and Shaun went around hugging every last one of his family and friends. Piper told him that he could ask Nat for any help if he ever needed it. Cait told him to not get caught breaking the rules. Preston let him know the Minutemen were always there to help, if he needed it, and to remember and visit. Danse saluted his friend, then held him tight in a hug, telling him sternly not to forget who he really is, and that he’d be there to back him up anytime, anyplace. MacCready hugged him tight, telling him how proud he was to call him his son, bringing himself to tears. Curie clung to Shaun and cried shamelessly, babbling on about all the scholarly topics he needed to continue and study, and how to treat any injury or sickness he was liable to end up with while in the business of detective work. Hancock ruffled Shaun’s hair with a fond smile, saying he wasn’t one for hugs before Shaun pulled him into one anyways, and Hancock let him know that Goodneighbor was under direct orders to always welcome him. Shaun turned and found X6 standing off to the side in a corner, and Shaun took his hand in a firm handshake. X6 said how proud he was to see how far the boy had come, and promised to look after him as he did his mother; Shaun pulled him into a hug too, and X6 hugged the teenager back with surprising desperation. And last but not least, Shaun turned to his mother.

“Thanks Mom,” he said, tears already streaking down his face from his other goodbyes, finding his mother in tears as well. “For everything. I couldn’t have asked for a better mother.”

“You say that like I’m retiring or something,” Madison sort of laughed, sort of sobbed. “I’m still your damn mom, and you’re still my precious boy.”

“You know it,” Shaun’s voice broke, and he hid his face in his mother’s hair as she met her in a fierce hug.

It was a painful goodbye, for everyone. The Commonwealth was not a forgiving place, and no one wanted to see their ten-year-old Shaun face the harshness of the world alone. But he wasn’t ten anymore, and he wasn’t alone. Valentine took a hold of Shaun’s shoulder as the teenager pulled away from his mother, wiping roughly at the tears on his face.

“We’ll see you trouble-makers soon,” Valentine said to his friends. “Better hurry on home, or you’ll get caught out in the Commonwealth in the dark. We wouldn’t want that, would we?”

“No,” Madison said, wiping the tears from her own face. “Nick’s right. Come one, let’s head back to the island.”

“Bye Shaun,” Duncan said, standing there as everyone else began to file out. “It’s been nice knowing you.”

Shaun smiled at his little brother and best friend. “I better hear all sorts of stories about your heroics, Duncan.”

“Don’t think you won’t,” Duncan puffed out his chest. “And there better not be a single mystery left to solve when I take the ‘Wealth by storm.”

Shaun laughed. “That’s gonna be hard, but I’ll do my best.”

The two of them hugged for a brief moment, before pulling away and nodding resolutely. Duncan hesitated there, not sure if there was anything else he had to say, but afraid of the tears that he felt coming to his eyes, he ran for the door and waved as he disappeared outside.

Everyone headed up the stairs to leave Diamond City, and Madison was the first to the top, spotting Danny Sullivan outside his booth, looking distraught.

“What’s the matter, Danny?” Madison asked, frowning.

“That little boy, he was talking to me, asking about Goodneighbor, and then he just… ran out the gates into the Commons!”

Madison felt her blood turn to ice. “What did he look like?”

Danny pointed to her. “He was with your group. Yea high, curly blonde hair…”

And then she heard it, from the back of the group, Hancock’s voice, laughing but carrying an undertone of worry. “Hey, where’s Jack..?”

A moment later, the question was "And where's Madison..?" because she had run out into the Commons without a second thought, a million things running through her head, but only one mattering: she had to find Jack, before it was too late.


	18. A Needle in a Haystack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madison goes looking for Jack in the Commons without so much as a single thought, and finds the path to her missing son to be on the tougher side.

The air was tearing violently in and out of Madison’s lungs, her legs having gone numb with a dull, persisting pain, heart beating in her ears like it was due to explode, the flood of its sound mingling with the usual explosions and gunfire that echoed through the hell that was the Commons, the horrific metropolitan heart of the Commonwealth. To say she wasn’t thinking straight was an understatement. _Anyone_ barreling through the Commons, not minding their step or keeping a close eye on their back, wasn't anything short of insane. But Madison wasn’t worried about herself; if the Commons presented _that_ much danger to her, a combat-experienced, battle-scarred adult, it was impossible to imagine the scale of danger a small five-year-old would be in.

But as much as Madison was willing to ignore the dangers for her son’s sake, the dangers weren’t about to ignore her. A spray of bullets snapped out of nowhere, one catching Madison in the leg she'd forgotten she had and bringing her to her knees. Luckily, she was thinking straight enough to throw herself behind some cover before the next round of bullets peppered the ground where she had been seconds before. Not having the time to deal with her assailers, Madison fished a grenade from the pouches on her belt, pulling the pin out with her teeth and tossing it back to the source of the gunfire. A tense second later, the grenade exploded, far closer than Madison had anticipating, the heat of the explosion washing painfully over her and her ears ringing terribly from the sound. Having only bought herself a small window of opportunity, she forced herself into a sprint—injured leg or no injured leg—and managed to round a corner, losing her attackers to the maze that was the streets of the Commons.

Unfortunately, losing her attackers meant Madison had also lost her bearings. Without the intense numbness of her full-on determination, the bullet wound in her leg began to take up an unprecedented amount of her focus. Each step buckled more than the last and each wave of pain became harder and harder not to cry out over. She was just beginning to identify buildings and determine the shortest path to Goodneighbor and her son when a snarl broke into her thoughts, and she turned just in time to deflect the gnashing teeth lunging towards her face with her Pip-Boy. The irradiated feral dog knocked the injured Sole Survivor to the ground, working furiously to get its teeth around the Pip-Boy and into her throat, claws front and back ripping away at the thinner fabrics on her body. Keeping her composure, Madison continued to block the mongrel with her well-armored arm while her other arm found her pistol, shooting a bullet right into the creature’s skull. Flinching at the fine spray of blood that splashed her face, Madison quickly heaved the limp and now significantly heavier dog off of her and got back to her feet, eyes catching the rich crimson ribbons striping her unprotected arm that quickly pooled into a shapeless puddle of blood, dripping to the ground with alarming speed.

She swore profusely as she continued, attempting a run and ending with something more like a shuffle. She kept her arm close to her body, trying to stop the blood flow best she could with her shirt, limping worse as she realized a little too late that the bullet wound in her leg had become irradiated and worsened by the feral dog’s back claws. Her free hand searched her pockets endlessly for stimpaks or drugs to help ease her pain and keep her going, just until she found Jack. She skirted from the street she was heading down to an alley as she heard the familiar stomp of supermutant feet, silently cursing at herself for needing to take the long way in order to even make it to Goodneighbor in one piece--normally she would have taken on the supermutants and been to Goodneighbor ten minutes sooner, but none of that was about to happen in the shape she was in. She was sure Daisy would have something to take the edge of her injuries once she got there, if she could just _get_ there…

 _Crack!_  Madison hit the ground as a baseball bat came swinging full force into her ribs, a raider having been hidden in the doorway of one of the old crumbling houses, just waiting for someone to come down the alley. As the raider stepped out from her cover, Madison wasted no time putting a bullet between her eyes, flinching again at the spray of red that went everywhere. She was immediately scrambling to her feet, but another bat jarred her spine and sent her right back into the pavement. A third, groggier attempt to stand found the barrel of a shotgun pressing its cold barrel on the back of her skull.

“Lookie what we found!” The raider’s voice hissed in excitement, as he pressed the barrel harder into her head cruelly. “Whaddya say we-“

His voice was cut short as a bullet flew through him and out his stomach, freezing him in place for a brief second before he tumbled to the ground.

“How about no,” Hancock growled, gun smoking in his hand.

It all happened so fast. Bullets flew between the small gang of raiders and the ghoul as Madison managed to drag herself to one of the walls in the alley and prop herself against it, emptying her pistol into as many of the raiders as she could. The pain in her chest, back, leg, and arm was becoming unbearable, and quickly shoving her into unconsciousness. But the ghoul was crouched there in front of her before it could, forcing her head up to look at him, worry clouding his dark eyes.

“Hold tight there, angel, I’ll get you fixed up…”

He jabbed a stimpak carefully into the crook of her arm, shushing her as she whimpered at the sensation of the needle beneath her skin; Madison quickly relaxed as the healing chemicals went into effect, letting out a sigh of relief.

“Didn’t think you of all people would have stimpaks on you, Hancock,” she laughed breathlessly, watching only half consciously as he took off his flag belt and began wrapping up what remained of her shredded arm.

“Yeah, well, I bought one or two when I was high. Thought they were psychos…” He laughed, though the humor was lacking in his voice, which trembled with concern.

“You would…” Her voice was trailing off, becoming less coherent.

“Stay with me!” Hancock pleaded, patting her cheeks roughly in his own panic. “Hey, come on now, we have to find Jack! Remember..?!”

“Jack..!” It hit her like a ton of bricks from where she floated halfway unconscious, snapping her back into agonizing reality.

Madison tried desperately to get on her feet, but not only did her leg refuse to support her, but a excruciating sharp pain stabbed her chest as she shifted, clearly having a few ribs broken. Hancock tried to get her back down, but she used his arms to pull herself to her feet instead, relying heavily on both him and the wall to stay upright.

 “Come on Hancock,” she gritted desperately. “You’ve got to have something on you! Some psycho would be wonderful…!”

“You know I gave up the hard stuff when Jack was born…” Hancock said quietly.

“Hand it over, ghoul!!” She snapped, holding out her hand until the psycho was relinquished to her. “That’s what I thought.”

She jammed the needle into her side, shutting her eyes tightly at the burning sensation of the chemicals leaking into her body, and then her eyes snapping back open as the drug kicked in. She straightened herself, standing lightly on both her feet and stretching her shredded and bandaged arm like it were brand new. She went to suck in a deep breath and stretch out her chest, but Hancock pinched her nose shut.

“Best not shift those broken ribs around anymore than you already have. You’ll puncture a lung. Not exactly something people recover from nowadays.”

It took a moment for it all to process with the psycho swamping her brain, but Madison managed a nod, and made a note to keep from breathing too heavily.

“So I bet my hat Jack’s in Goodneighbor. Or rather, headed for it.” Hancock sighed raggedly. “Let’s just hope the poor kid's still breathing.”

The two of them continued on their way to the ghoul’s settlement, having to gun down another few patrols of raiders and a slew of irradiated creatures to do so. Luckily for both of them, they had each other to watch their back.  

“The others..?” Madison inquired as they drew close to Goodneighbor.

“I sent them home," Hancock said, referring to their friends who had gone to Diamond City with them. "Didn’t want them getting stuck out in the Commons in the dark while waiting on us. Actually had to knock MacCready out cold; kid refused to keep from going after you. So if it’s not too much to ask…”

“Yeah yeah, I’ll keep him from killing you Hancock,” Madison snorted in amusement, the psycho turning her much more blunt than usual.

“You two still a thing, by the way..? You and ol’ Nicky seemed to have had some pretty painful goodbyes for one another.” The ghoul waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“What, me and Robert? Oh yeah, we’re still a thing. He wears my ring, Hancock.” She flashed her hand with her wedding band on it. “But me and Nick, we’re also a thing. More of a friends-with-benefits-behind-MacCready’s-back sort of thing.”

“So what am I then?” He pouted fiercely.

“You’re more of a drink-enough-alcohol-to-blame-it-on-drunk-sex sort of a thing.”

“I’m cool with that,” Hancock grinned.

“And for the record,” she said pointedly. “I _am_ going to tell MacCready about me and Nick. I just… have to wait for the perfect moment. Because… well, you know… he doesn’t take that sort of thing very well…”

“Totally get it, angel,” Hancock nodded. “But hey, in the meantime, the next time you and Nicky decide to get it on, you should invite me. Just think about it: you, me, Nick…” He fanned his hands out in front of himself like he was displaying the words in the air Broadway-style.

But Madison was no longer listening, because they had just come up on the gates to Goodneighbor. She wasn’t exactly sure what to do, because a part of her had expected to find Jack dead along the way somewhere. But the fact that they made it…

“I didn’t see any signs of… well, you know… along the way. Did you..?”

Hancock shook his head. They didn’t want to get their hopes up, but they also wanted to believe more than anything that their little Jack was safe beyond those gates.

“Only one way to find out…” Madison pushed open the door, with Hancock in tow.

The first person they met was Daisy, and Hancock slapped a handful of caps onto her counter.

“Daisy, do what you can to get her fixed up, alright? She’s riding a good psycho trip right now, but when she comes down, she’s gonna be in a world of hurt…”

“Sure, Hancock, anything!” The ghoul rasped in surprised. “What are the two of you doing running around in the Commons anyway?”

“Have you seen him?” Madison asked, trying to sound calm despite her growing hysteria. “My son. He’s only five… looks like he’s got endive growing on his head, but sorta whitish blonde… more freckles than actual clear skin…”

“The hell is endive?” Hancock eyed his friend, more worried than normal. “You ought to sit down, darling. I’m serious. That psycho’s gonna wear off any second now…”

“What? No, I feel fine, Hancock! We have to find J-” Her voice got cut off as her pain came back like a train crashing into her body. Luckily, Hancock caught her as her injured leg gave out.

“Told you…” he muttered distractedly as Daisy grabbed a chair and Hancock helped her into it. “Look, you stay here. If anyone in this town has seen anything, I’ll know it soon enough.”

And with that, the Mayor of Goodneighbor went about questioning his citizens frantically, desperate to see his little buddy safe and sound. Madison wasn’t sure if she passed out, or if Daisy just worked amazingly fast, but the next thing she remembered after being set in the chair was sitting there covered in bandages and hyped back up on stimpaks and Med-X.

“I did see him, you know,” Daisy was saying as she jabbed a stimpak into Madison’s side to deal with the broken ribs. “He looked sort of spooked and shaken up, but he didn’t seem to be severely injured, so I gave him some caps, sent him to Hotel Rexford, told him to get a room and get some sleep and then come find me here at the shop. If he was an orphan, I was going to get him set up with a nice new home, you know? Or if he was lost, get him back to his family. But since you two showed up, guess there’s no need. Who is he, anyway?”

“His name is Jack,” Madison finally felt able to breathe easily knowing her son was safe, fatigue washing over her. “He’s my son, only five-years-old. We were in Diamond City, moving his big brother in over there. He must have slipped away when we were all saying our goodbyes. He idolizes Hancock, you know. Spends every available moment with him. He’s always wanted to visit Goodneighbor, live like his idol…”

Daisy chuckled knowingly. “Well that’s quite the idol he’s got there. But hasn’t he got a father to look up to?”

Madison laughed through her nose dryly. “Isn’t that the question of the hour? No, but he’s got us, and that’s all he really needs…”

“Sure,” Daisy got slowly to her feet. “Well, you’re in about as good of shape as you will be for a while. Why don’t you head over to the hotel? I’ll track down Hancock and send him that way too.”

“Thanks Daisy,” Madison smiled, getting carefully to her feet and heading farther into Goodnieghbor.

The relief grew stronger as Madison talked to Clair Hutchins at the Hotel Rexford front desk, confirming that Jack had indeed come by and rented a room. Madison explained herself to Clair, and the older woman smiled and gave her the spare keys to the room.

“It’s always nice when these sort of things work out,” Clair Hutchins commented. “It’s not usually a happy ending for lost kids in the ‘Wealth.”

Madison said her thanks and left a generous tip of caps on the counter, heading up the stairs and hunting down the room. She tried to door and found it locked, producing the spare keys from her pocket and opening the door. The room was dark, and Madison squinted to see anything as she slowly stepped inside.

“Jack…?” She whispered quietly, hands fumbling about in the dark and finding a lamp. “You there, sweetie..?”

She flipped the switch on the lamp, the relief retreating in an instant as a wave of horror took its place. On the bed was one of Jack’s shoes, and on the wall a rail sign: _enemy_. Panic beginning to take a grip on her mind, and Madison took a hold of the small shoe, staring at it in disbelief. She had been so close! He had been right here! Underneath the shoe, there was a note. She picked it up and read what it had to say: _The Combat Zone. If you ever want to see your son again, you’ll show within the next two hours._

She didn’t hear what Clair Hutchin had to say as she came down the stairs and walked straight out the door of the hotel. She didn’t notice anyone or anything as she made her way through Goodneighbor swiftly and headed for the gates. She was gone before anyone had time to say or do anything. To say she wasn’t thinking straight was an understatement. But only one thing still mattered to Madison, and that was finding her son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only two chapters left! How do you think this story is going to end?
> 
> P.S. I know and you don't! ;) ;)


	19. Insert Something Shakespearean Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madison goes to the Combat Zone to recover her now stolen son, and is faced with the hard truth.

“What are you doing..?” A voice broke into the silence at the library, Madison looking up from the book she was caught up in.

“Reading,” she answered, sounding more like a question than a statement.

She recognized this guy, from around the school. He was in her art class. He was _really_ good at art. His dark hair curled out from under his trilby hat, astonishing green eyes gazing earnestly from behind thick-rimmed glasses. He approached her at the table she was sitting, but kept his distance, curious but shy.

“At this hour?” He asked, sounding more concerned than teasing. “It’ll be dark soon.”

Madison shrugged, tucking her neat, chin-length brown hair behind her ear out of habit. “Now’s the only time I’ve got to read…”

“Oh…” He answered, voice trailing off as his hands tucked themselves into his winter overcoat. “What-… what are you reading, exactly?”

“It’s a book about science,” she answered quietly.

“What kind of science?” He answered, excitement creeping into his voice. “My favorite science is chemistry. I like knowing how things are put together. I think it’s exciting, don’t you?”

Madison shrugged. “This one is about physics. Nuclear physics. You know, the sort of stuff that makes our cars run and the lights stay on? But it’s sort of chemistry, too… there’s atoms, see? And hydrogen…”

She pushed the book across the table just a bit, drawing Nate in for a closer look. He fiddled with his glasses as his gleaming green eyes scanned over the open pages in wonder.

“You understand all this?” He asked in amazement.

“Just a bit…” Madison blushed. “But I’ve read a number of other books on the topic before this one…”

“Gee whiz!” He breathed in awe, flashing her the warmest smile she had ever seen. “That’s really something, Miss… uh….”

“Madison,” she answered, returning a bashful smile.

“Madison,” his smile widened as he said her name himself. “I’m Nathaniel. Well, Nate, usually.”

“It’s very nice to meet you Nate Usually,” Madison bit her tongue excitedly as she grinned.

He couldn’t help but laugh to himself disbelievingly, cheeks reddening. “It’s very nice to meet you too!”

“You say it’s getting dark?” Madison finally took in the comment, realizing just how much the time had passed, hands reaching for the book.

“Well, yeah,” Nate stammered a little, keeping the book in place. “But if you don’t mind staying a bit longer, I’d be more than happy to walk you home.”

She stared at him, surprised, a little worried, mostly intrigued. His ears turned beet red under her gaze, and his honest green eyes dropped back down to the book pages as he stammered once more. “I-I was hoping you might be able to explain a bit more of this to me, i-if you don’t mind…”

Madison dropped her gaze to the table and her folded hands, cheeks burning as she tucked her hair behind her ear once more. “Not at all, Nate.” She looked back up at him, and the two of them smiled all at once. “In fact, I would love too.”

Madison shook herself, blinking back to the fallout-torn reality she was stuck in. It was painful to remember life back then, so she tried hard not to, tried hard to keep her mind occupied and her time filled. But every now again, walking in the quiet and the calm, the memories presented themselves unannounced, filling her with the worst kind of nostalgia. It was a different life then, with its own challenges, its own evils, its own happy moments. She may not have been fighting to keep her limbs on back then, but she was fighting a different kind of fight: her dreams. Oh, how she _dreamed_ of being a scientist, spending all those late nights studying on her own—until Nate began to join her regularly, that was. He wanted to be a scientist, too; a chemist, more specifically. They went to college together, living in a dreamy haze as they went to lectures and earned their bachelors degrees. But then, pursuing her doctorate, Madison was rejected at every university she applied. She instead went to law school, hoping to earn some respect with the schools of higher education and earn her place studying science. And Nate, he had to take a break in his studies, get two jobs to help pay the student debt they had accumulated between the two of them. He was just about to enter graduate school when he was drafted. Madison received her law degree, and tried again with becoming an esteemed researcher, to no avail. Nate had always planned to keep at his studies when he returned from war, but neither of them had realized just how little time they had left...

It was so much simpler now, in terms of education and expertise. If you knew a thing or two in a subject, you were dubbed an undeniable expert. No lengthy applications, no prejudice to overcome, just respect. Nate would have liked it, Madison thought as she rounded a corner and checked for raiders. She smiled ever so slightly as she pictured him, green eyes practically glowing with delight, as he studied the chemical compounds found in irradiated creatures. She knew he would have been instant friends with every last ghoul they met, talking their ears off—perhaps literally—about what side effects went along with their condition. She could practically hear his voice marveling over the scientific wonder that was the synths…

“Would you look at him, honey!” He would laugh in absolute childish delight, studying every last inch of Nick Valentine he deemed polite. “You, sir, should pat yourself on the back! Wait!! Can you do that?? Do your arms reach any further than the human arm?? No? Well I’m sure with just a few extra screws and a trusty blowtorch I could make that happen for you!”

It almost compelled her to run back to Sanctuary, no matter how far, and check to see if Nate was awake yet. Surely he couldn’t be dead. Surely the cryogenic storage stopped the bleeding from becoming fatal. Surely the stasis he would have been in could have prevented any injury to any organs from becoming lethal. Madison squeezed her injured arm, the pain bringing her sharply back to reality. He’s dead, she told herself. Focus.

It was the worst kind of nostalgia. The kind that could suck you into the past to the point of forgetting there was even a present.

In in the present, her son had been kidnapped. And she had to save him.

She reached the Combat Zone, having half expected to be ten bullet holes lighter. She was surprisingly unharmed for having traversed the Commons alone again, but she hadn’t the luxury to dwell on her own good fortune. The doors of the Combat Zone had been painted with a huge rail sign, depicting _cache_. Madison snorted in distaste at the humor, throwing open the doors and marching inside.

It was eerily quiet as she stepped into the old theater, with no sign of anyone in the entryway. She passed by the collapsed-in ticket booth and entered into the actual theater, eyeing the iron cage on stage where she had found Cait brawling what seemed like an eternity ago; her eyes trailed up into the viewing boxes and walkways up above, due to fall to the floor any day now. It all seemed far too empty, far too quiet, far too inviting. Slowly, she took each steps down towards the stage deliberately, trying to keep her limp from being obvious, trying her best to feel her fingers in her gun-hand, the arm having taken too much damage and too many jabs of chems to be of much use. She had to pause a moment as she took in a breath and felt a horrific pain jolting up from her chest, shifting her torso just so as she exhaled, the pain disappearing as fast as it had come. She went to take another step when the theater echoed with the shuffle of feet and the cocking of weapons, and two dozen red dots shone on her from where the muzzles of guns were aimed from all over the rafters. Lights kicked on that she hadn’t noticed were off, and she squinted as she suddenly grew blind from them all.

“How nice of you to show up to your own surprise party,” came a familiar, easy tone.

“Sorry to break it to you, but my birthday was months ago, Deeks.”

She managed to adjust to the new lighting, staring evenly at her old smiling friend who stood before her, dressed head to toe in combat armor, having let his hair grow out so he could buzz the sides and gel the top over to one side. He would have looked tough, with the smoldering cigarette reflecting in his dark shades, but Madison knew the man too well to ever be intimidated by him.

 “Like the hair,” she commented, keeping up a conversational tone despite all the guns trained on her. “Ginger suits you, you know. Looks tougher than black, really. Just talk to Fahrenheit back at Goodneighbor. She’s been rocking badass ginger forever.”

He flicked the cigarette away from himself, watching it land. “You’re awful chatty for a mother with a missing child. But then again, what else could be expected of a murderer?”

“Hardly one to talk, _pal_ ,” she responded with an edge in her voice. “You’re the one that just added child-kidnapper to his endless book of identities.”

“Well your book is a rather short one. Let me read it to you here,” Deacon bit out. “It goes: vault dweller, Railroad agent, my friend, betrayer, murderer, enemy of the Railroad.”

Madison wrinkled her nose. “You missed couple in there… especially the part where I was played by the Institute…”

“Well that doesn’t bring back the people you slaughtered, now does it?” Deacon’s voice came calm but cold as hell, shutting Madison’s quips right up.

There was a silence, Madison dropping her eyes, face growing dark with a disturbing realization.

“You’re right,” she said, voice quiet and filling with anger. “I killed them. _I_. _Killed_. _Them._ ” She went silent, eyes scanning about. “There. I said it. But is _that_ bringing them back? _No!!_ So why don’t you stop blaming me for what happened and start doing something about it Deacon!!” She hesitated about whether or not to go further, but her mouth ran faster than her brain. “You fucking coward!!”

Deacon stared at her face, dark with anger, in absolute shock. He had trusted her. He had… _God_ , he had _loved_ her… he…

The gun was at her head in an instant, eyes flashing with anger behind his sunglasses. “You’re going to do exactly as the Railroad says or you will pay for your crimes in blood. _Your_ blood, if that’s not perfectly obvious.”

Madison laughed manically. “Oh _am_ I? What will it be, oh great and powerful Deacon, leader of the _esteemed_ Railroad? Let me guess, shut down the Institute. Cease to exist. Poof! No more Institute! Is that what you want!?”

He pressed the gun into her head until she was on her knees, her staring up at him with half a smile, his own face gone red with absolute rage. He gritted his teeth as his jaw clenched painfully hard, dying to pull the trigger but knowing better than to shoot down the Institute’s director and incur their wrath upon his newly rebuilt organization.

“You seem to forget, _pal_ ,” He said, managing to keep his voice level. “We have your son. If you don’t cooperate…”

Madison seemed to snap back to herself, frowning as she looked around, ignoring the gun to her head,voice calming back down. “Yeah, that’s right. Where is Jack, by the way?”

Deacon whistled, and one of his agents led Jack out of the office to the side and out into plain view, holding a gun to his head to keep the five-year-old from trying anything. Jack spotted his mother in an instant, and stared in terrified disbelief at the gun that was sure to kill her any second. Despite everything, Madison managed a reassuring smile for her youngest.

“It’s alright Jack,” she said. “Everything’s going to be alright. Did they hurt you at all?”

Jack shook his head.

“That’s good,” Madison sighed in relief. “Are you scared Jack?”

He nodded.

“Don’t be scared,” Madison reassured. “You’ll be fine. I promise.”

Deacon cleared his throat, pulling Madison’s attention back to himself. “You’re going to take me to the Institute with you. You’re going to walk me around and grant me full access to all facilities while I plant charges. And then you’re going to send me back here and allow me time to detonate said charges. You are to _remain_ at the Institute during the detention.”

“That’s not going to happen, Deacon,” Madison answered evenly, eyes fixed on Jack.

“If you _don’t_ comply, we’ll have to shoot your son.” The reluctance in his voice was blatantly obvious, but the seriousness was there too.

“You’ll do no such thing,” Madison’s eyes turned slowly up to Deacon, blazing with the anger of a thousand hellfires.

“Not if you agree with our terms.”

“No!!” She snapped.

“Agent Ranger, shoot the boy on my count.”

“ _Deacon!!_ ”

“Do you agree with our terms?”

“ _Fuck no, Deacon!!”_ She screamed, scrambling back to her feet just to be shoved back onto her knees by two agents she hadn’t seen come up behind her. “Deacon stop this!!”

“Three.”

“ _Deacon!!!_ ”

“Two…”

“ _For God’s sake, Deacon, he’s your own damn son!!!_ ”

The words echoed dully in the utter silence that followed. For Deacon, it was as if the whole world had come to a halt. His eyes grew wide with shock and horror as he stared in disbelief at the woman he held at gunpoint, at the tears streaming down her face he had failed to notice before. His blood turned to ice at the thought of what he was about to give the command to do.

“You’re lying,” he said quietly, staring at Madison intently.

“If I were lying,” she cried shakily, trying to steady her voice. “You of all people would know…”

She gulped as Deacon continued to stare, her eyes shifting to Jack once more, at the tears pouring down his terrified face. “Just _look_ at him Deacon…. I thought the hair and the freckles were a dead giveaway…”

And Deacon did look. He stared long and hard at the boy he was about to have killed for… for what? The look on the poor boy’s face was enough to break even the coldest of hearts, and it shattered Deacon’s heart into a million little pieces.

“M-…. My son…?” Deacon turned back to Madison, his face filled with pain. “Why? After all this time, why haven’t you ever told me until now..?”

“Look at us, Deacon!” Madison laughed humorlessly. “I’m in charge of the Institute. I _killed_ your-… _our_ friends… and you would go this far, if not farther, to avenge them… did you really want him caught in the middle of all that?”

Deacon hesitated, but with a nod, his agents backed off. Madison was allowed back on her feet. Agent Ranger holstered his gun and stepped away from Jack. The boy ran as fast as he could into his mother’s arms, and she ignored the pain his tight hug caused to her ribs. She shushed him soothingly as he cried into her blood-soaked shirt, shaking in her arms. All Deacon could do was stare, head spinning. _His_ son. He never thought he would be so lucky… and never thought his shortcomings as a dad would be so tremendous… He wanted for more than anything to scoop the boy up in his arms and apologize until his voice went hoarse, but he didn’t think he would be very welcome. How many disguises would he have to layer on before he could be accepted as a dad again, and not his kidnapper?

“Come on Jack…” Madison murmured to her son, taking his hand as he dried his eyes on his sleeve. “Let’s go…” She led him to the door, her limp much more pronounced after all the kneeling she had done. Deacon was sure it would be the last he would ever see of his son, but Madison proved him wrong as she looked back at him and jerked her head for him to follow.

Deacon emerged from the Combat Zone after a little while of dreadful hesitation, finding Madison propped up against a wall with Jack sitting beside her, him eating a Fancy Lads Snack Cake that she had found in her pockets. Madison was stroking through his pale blonde curls soothingly, her face awfully pale, even in comparison with her fair son’s skin. The full extent of her injuries suddenly registered with Deacon as he realized she had to get her son-… _their_ son home, in her battered state. He listened to the quiet words she was using to calm Jack down.

“So it’s not your fault, Jack, it’s mine, because a long time ago, I got scared, and I made a big mistake that really hurt your dad. And instead of trying to make the hurt go away, I ran away.”

“What did you do, mama?” Jack asked timidly.

Madison looked several years older as she gazed at her hands for answers. “Well buddy, I forgot who my friends were. I got confused and told myself this man named Father was my friend, and that I could trust him, and so when he told me some of my other friends had to die, well… I trusted him, that he knew better than I did.”

“You killed your friends?”

“Not Uncle Hancock, or our friends living on the island, but some of your dad’s friends, that had become my friends too. And the moment it all happened, the moment I killed those people, I knew that I had done the wrong thing, and that the man called Father wasn’t my friend after all, no matter how much I had tried to believe he was. At first, I ran away to Uncle Nicky and all our friends, and tried to forget I had done such a terrible thing and hurt your dad. But eventually, I tried to do all I could think of to make things better…. But no matter what I do, it’s not going to bring those people back to life, is it..?”

“No…” Jack sighed, saddened. “But did my dad make new friends…?”

“He did,” Madison smiled somberly. “But his new friends don’t like me. They think I’ll kill them like his old friends. And so to keep me from attacking them, they took you, so that I would think twice about killing them.”

“You weren’t going to kill them _really_ , were you?”

“No, I wasn’t. But they didn’t know. They were just being careful.”

“I get it,” Jack said carefully, mulling it all over. “Kind of like we don’t _think_ anyone will attack our island, but just in case they do, we have the turrets, and Mr. Strong?”

“Yeah, kind of like that,” Madison ruffled his hair gently. “So what do you think, Jack? How are you feeling?”

“I’m…” he paused. “I think I’m still a little scared of my dad’s friends… but I want to meet _him_ , my dad…” His eyes shone with an anticipation that only a fatherless child can ever feel.

Deacon took his cue, approaching the two of them from where he had been snooping in the shadows.

“Hey there tiger…” He smiled sheepishly. “Did someone call for a dad?”

It was cheesy, and Madison rolled her eyes, but Jack loved the line more than anything, because it was all too true for him. He _had_ called for a dad, in every wish at the beginning of each night, each and every birthday, while blowing the seeds from every last dandelion…

Jack scooted over and made room next to himself for Deacon to sit, patting the ground invitingly. Deacon happily obliged, though a little stiffly in all his combat armor. The two boys sat there in silence for a little while, neither of them sure what to say.

“That’s cool,” Jack finally said, knocking on a piece of the armor on Deacon’s arm. “My mama needs armor like that. She gets hurt too much.”

Madison huffed pointedly. “Yeah, well, if you weren’t running off to Goodneighbor without telling your mama, she wouldn’t be falling apart quite so bad.”

“Running off to Goodneighbor, eh?” Deacon grinned. “That’s nothing! Let me tell you about the time I had to relocate a nest of Deathclaws across the ‘Wealth—get this!—using myself as bait!”

And so Deacon delved into his highly-exaggerated story, reverting back to the one thing he knew himself to be good at to try and clean the slate with his son. Madison may have shot a few less-than-happy looks his way during the story’s progression, but Jack stared up at his new dad with wide, admiring eyes, absolutely enthralled by the story and the man it told of, the man who was now his father. It was a rocky start for the broken family, to say the least, but after five years, if was a good enough start as any. Madison was just glad to have her son back safe and sound, and even if she could never have the friend back that she had lost so many years ago, she was thankful he was willing to step up and be the dad for her son, rivalry or no rivalry. Madison knew she didn’t deserve Deacon, but if anyone did deserve the loyal and kind man at their side, it was Jack. And for Deacon, there was no better pal in the whole war-torn world then his own son.


	20. One Man's End is Another Man's Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Duncan having reached the age of fifteen and left to pursue adventures in the Commonwealth, ten-year-old Jack makes plans of his own, and must confront Madison over his desire to leave.

The dark water lapped lazily up against the boat, jostling the vessel against the dock. The inky water blended with the night sky on the horizon, and it almost seemed that one could take the boat out into the starry beyond. Jack daydreamed about such an escape as he sat at the end of the dock, letting the water spray his toes as it broke against the dock posts. His pale blue-green eyes drifted from the endless ocean in the east to the much closer shoreline of the mainland to the west, where the formidable Minutemen Castle rose up from the ground, darker than the starless sky behind it that was tainted by the light of civilization and the jagged silhouettes of skyscrapers. He wondered what was going on beyond those unshakable concrete walls. Were they celebrating? Late night shooting practice, maybe? Sleeping in anticipation for an early morning patrol? Jack heaved a sigh, wiping a hand quickly across his eyes as he began to cry. Whatever they were doing, they were doing it with Duncan; Jack’s brother had left the island to join up with the Minutemen just earlier that day, accompanied by Preston Garvey. Just like Shaun, Duncan had turned fifteen, and ask Madison and MacCready permission to move off the island. They were reluctant to let him go, but seeing as though the Castle was so close to home, they allowed it.

Jack, ten years old, had gone along to say his goodbyes to his brother. He couldn’t stand goodbyes. When everyone else was helping Duncan move in, saying their goodbyes, Jack had run off down the beach, needing to be alone, needing to kick at the sand angrily. Now, in the dark of night, he felt that anger bubble back up, and he pushed off the dock, splashing into the water and immediately going under. There, in the freezing cold, dark depths of the ocean, he screamed as loud and as long as he could. Bubbles erupted from his open mouth and dashed for the surface. Jack screamed until his lungs burned for air, kicking off the rocky bottom and breaking the surface of the water with a sharp gasp, treading with some difficulty as he used one arm to swim and the other to push his wet blonde hair from his face. The hair on the back of his neck stood up, and Jack whipped himself around to face the dock, spotting the figure crouching there and recognizing them immediately.

“I’m fine Uncle Hancock,” Jack huffed with a roll of his eyes. “I meant to get in the water.”

“Okay, I just-… okay…” The ghoul sighed.

“How long have you been spying on me?” Jack asked in mild annoyance, grabbing the edge of the dock and hoisting himself back up.

Hancock skirted away from the edge as Jack come up dripping wet, getting back to his feet. “Depends. How long have you been sulking?”

“I’m not sulking,” Jack defended.

“You are sulking,” Hancock corrected. There was a tense silence between the two of them, until Hancock—like always—backed off apologetically. “Hey, Jack listen… if you want to leave, just tell her.”

“You kidding? She won’t let me leave for another five years. If that. You know how she feels about her _precious baby_.” He spit out the last two words with a record amount of disdain, shoulders hunched up as he placed his hands at either side of himself and leaned forward, kicking at the little waves in the water.

“That’s not stopping you from leaving though, is it?” Hancock remark, unable to keep the sadness from his voice. Jack’s silence only confirmed his suspicions. “Here…”

The ghoul plucked a knife from inside his coat, twirling it in his fingers, handing it over to Jack who had turned at the quiet whistle of steel. Jack stared into the blade, recognizing the knife immediately.

“Uncle Hancock, this one’s your favorite…”

“Seems fitting, doesn’t it?” He laughed a little. “My favorite knife for my favorite partner in crime...”

Jack was speechless, looking up at the ghoul, smiling just a bit. “Thanks… that means a lot...”

“Yeah, well,” Hancock shrugged easily. “Take care of yourself, okay? And I call dibs on sharing your first beer with ya.”

Jack snorted. “Yeah, you’ve said that a hundred times.”

“Just make sure that dad of yours knows it,” He nodded resolutely, reluctantly giving the boy’s sopping wet hair one last affection ruffle.

“I’ll visit, Uncle Hancock,” Jack was blinking rapidly to keep back tears. “So cut the sappy crap…”

“Right,” Hancock winked, shaking his hand dry. “See you later, little man.”

“See you, Uncle Hancock,” Jack smiled, watching as the ghoul tucked his thumbs in his belt and walked back up the dock and headed up the hill towards the house. He passed a figure, who came down to the docks in his stead.

Jack didn’t say a word as Madison sat beside him, but his eyes couldn’t help but flicker to the glint of metal on her right arm; he remembered that day, running off to Goodneighbor, that had caused her to get so injured, and need the prosthetic additives to keep her arm functional and in one piece. At one point, her skin had grown back and covered her arm, and you would never been able to tell it wasn’t brand new. But every injury she sustained tore the skin away from the metal, and it took forever for it to cover it back up again. It didn’t help that she got injured fairly consistently, too.

“Noticed you packed your things,” Madison finally interjected, quiet.

Jack nodded, letting the silence settle back over them.

“When are you leaving, then?”

“Tonight, actually,” Jack answered sheepishly. “I, uh, I’ve been in contact with Dad for a little while now. He’s meeting me on the mainland in…” Jack looked at the progression of the moon in the sky. “Well, he should be there now, actually…”

“Ah…” Madison drew in a slow, deep breath, glad for the night obscuring her face. “Let’s go grab your bags then…”

They both stood, heading back to the house side by side, Madison pushing to keep up with his eager pace. “You excited…?”

“Yeah,” Jack smiled at her as they stepped into the house and headed for his room. “We’re going to see all the Commonwealth has to offer together! And help save synths like Shaun and Uncle Danse and Aunt Curie!”

“That’ll be a blast,” Madison said with a sad smile, grabbing one suitcase as Jack hauled the other behind him, already heading back for the docks.

“Yeah!” Jack agreed, foul mood gone the moment he had the okay to leave.

 _Thunk! Thunk!_ The suitcases dropped into the boat, the sound causing the Sole SUrvivior’s heart to ache, already beginning to feel the emptiness. She stared as Jack worked to untie to boat from the dock. When did he get so big? Wasn’t it just yesterday he took his first uncertain steps? Hadn’t he just begun to talk? And yet he was leaving…

“If you see your Uncle Nick while you’re with your father, do give him my love.”

“Who? Dad or Uncle Nick?” Jack grinned, lowering himself into the boat.

“Both.”

Jack saluted. “Aye aye captain!”

Madison couldn’t help but smile despite the worry clouding her mind, saluting half-heartedly back. “Be safe, Jack. And come home as often as you can.”

“I will Mom! Promise!”

“Oh! I almost forgot!” Madison fished through her pockets, producing a very simple necklace, with a worn leather strip for the chain threaded through a tiny hole in a mottled scallop seashell, the inside of which glimmered with a lining of mother of pearl.

She bent down and slipped the necklace over Jack’s head from where he sat in the boat, and the boy inspected the shell.

“To remember home by,” Madison smiled. “Believe it or not, there’s not a ton of beaches in the Commonwealth.”

“Thanks,” Jack smiled, tucking the necklace into his shirt and taking up the ores.

“You sure you can handle those by yourself?” Madison asked, worry overflowing. “I could row you to the mainland…”

“No, I’ve got it Mom!” Jack reassured. “It’s a calm night. It shouldn’t be too hard.”

“Alright…” She watched as he dipped the ores into the water, struggling to find traction and a rhythm to begin with. But it was hardly anytime at all before the ores broke the water in synchrony, and the small boat and boy were disappearing into the night.

“Bye Mom!” Jack called back, bright smile and glimmering eyes noticeable despite the dark. “Love you!”

“I love you too, Jack..!” She called back, emotion choking her up.

She stood there for what seemed like an eternity, peering out over the water long after losing sight of Jack in his boat. She strained her eyes, trying to catch a glimpse of the boat bobbing on the open water. She strained her ears, trying to hear the sound of the haul crunching into shore at the mainland. Worst, she hoped Deacon had kept his word, and was actually waiting for Jack. A familiar arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her gently into a far more familiar chest.

“So you let him go, huh?” MacCready asked quietly, kissing her head softly.

“He wouldn’t have been happy if he stayed…” She sniffled, wiping tears from her eyes, wrapping an arm around MacCready’s waist. “With Shaun _and_ Duncan gone, he didn’t have any reason to stick around…”

“He’d have you,” MacCready offered.

“Like I said, he didn’t have any reason to stay…” Madison sighed.

Quietly, MacCready drew her in close, enveloping her in a tight hug, not letting go as her tears began to soak his shirt.

“On the bright side,” he piped up after a moment, a sly grin spreading on his face. “We don’t have to worry about the kids catching us fooling around anymore.”

Madison pulled away and socked him in the shoulder, only causing him to laugh.

“You’re terrible, Robert!” She scowled. “Jack is out there, all on his own, and you think _now_ is a good time to-….” Her voice trailed off as heartbreak washed painfully over her once more.

“Hey,” MacCready said gently, leaning her head over into his lips. “He’s not alone. He’s got Deacon. And as much as the guy may have had his issues in the past, from one dad to another, he’s a natural. I could just tell. Every time kids got mentioned back in the day, he turned into a big softie. If there’s one thing you can be sure of, it’s that Jack will be safe with Deacon.”

Madison took it all in, letting out a resigning sigh. “You’re right…”

“Of course I’m right,” MacCready growled playfully, his nose smooshed to hers.

Madison blushed, a smile breaking the gloom on her face. “You _do_ know everything, don’t you, fuzzball?”

He smiled as charmingly as he knew how. “Don’t forget it, knockout.”

Madison let him kiss her, smiling. “Come on then, it's getting rather late. Let’s hit the hay before we lose our chance to sleep.”

“Yes ma’am,” MacCready nodded, scooping her up bridal style much to Madison’s surprise, doing his absolute best to carry her back to the house amidst her fit of giggles.

Across the water, Jack’s rowboat slid into the shore, and Jack quickly vaulted out the boat, grabbing it by the bow and pulling it further into shore until the sand and rocks held it firmly in place. Deacon was waiting there, in his classic pompadour wig and sunglasses look, in an old shirt and ratty jeans.

“Hey there Agent!” He grinned, keeping his arms crossed over his chest as Jack tackled him in a hug.

“Hey Dad!” Jack grinned, doing is very best to squeeze the life out of cocky father.

Deacon laughed breathlessly at the tightening vice around his middle, wheezing in defeat. “Alright, alright, I give!”

“Then that means you have to carry my bags!” Jack sneered, sticking his tongue out cheekily.

“Fair enough, twinkle toes,” Deacon grinned back, grabbing the suitcases. “Where do you want to go first?”

“HQ, definitely!” Jack shook with excitement, looking around at everything on the mainland with a renewed curiosity.

“HQ it is, bossman,” Deacon nodded seriously. “Let’s eat dirt then.”

“Let’s do it,” Jack smiled, stealing one the suitcases from his Dad so that they could hold hands.

For Jack, it was a new beginning, a fresh start, an adventure. For Madison, it was the end of an era, bringing her attempts to rebuild a family to a quiet and somber close. But her sons, though now spread across the Commonwealth, still filled her heart with an undeniable warmth. After all she had been through, her heart was not quite so broken, not quite so empty, not quite so blue. She just hoped her heart would never be hurt again, or at least not to the extent it was before. But broken hearts were inevitable in a world torn apart by war. And if Madison understood one thing after all the fighting and searching and hurting and rebuilding, it was that war… war never changes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the end, folks!! Hope you enjoyed!!
> 
> Be sure to check in with 'The Call Him The Wanderer' to pick up with Jack after seven years have gone by!


End file.
